Sunrise
by wolfraven80
Summary: SethxEirika When Seth is struck down in battle, he thinks for a moment that he might be dying. But what he wakes up to isn’t the afterlife, it’s... yesterday?
1. Prologue

**Sunrise**

**A/N:** I wanted to mention something about how this game fits in relation to some of my other stories. Basically, I wrote _Tarnish_ right after playing the game and it was, for me, my version of what happened afterwards, something to bridge the gap between the A support and the paired ending. _Legacies_ then was its sequel. In my mind _Perspectives_ and _Rain_ both exist in the same continuum, though I was careful to make them stand alones. At the same time, though, I tried do make sure they didn't contradict events in _Tarnish_. This story, however, stands as AU to _Tarnish_. It takes places during the war and it's a little different. So yeah... you can see for yourself...

* * *

**Prologue**

Standing there, on the outskirts of Darkling Woods, one would never guess that it was spring. Elsewhere in the world, life was beginning again: Flowers sprouted from the earth; trees bloomed; animals woke from their winter rest, but spring never came to Darkling Woods. Instead, the trees remained forever barren, the earth itself tainted when the Demon King's blood had been spilled long ago. And now that corruption seemed to be spreading beyond, for though they remained some distance still from the Woods, the trees here had already begun to shed their leaves and the forest was painted with the colours of an unnatural autumn.

Seth let his eyes wander among the boughs of the dying trees. How strange that even as their life drained away they could be so beautiful, lustrous with orange, copper, and saffron leaves.

"Is everything ready?" Eirika asked one of the soldiers. Even at a distance Seth could hear her voice clearly. It rang out like the chime of Castle Renais's bells that had welcomed him home from battles in days past. He remembered now how she would stand on the castle ramparts to watch him parade into the courtyard.

"Yes, Princess," the soldier replied. "We've set up guard along the perimeter– twice the normal numbers. We're ready for anything, my lady."

"Good."

If only she would stay behind this time...

Seth did not turn as someone came to stand next to him. After all these years, he recognised Ephraim's steps. "It won't be long now."

"Yes, sire," he replied, though his eyes continued to follow Eirika.

"By this time tomorrow we should be near the black temple." From the corner of his eye Seth could see Ephraim glancing at him. "I hope you're not thinking of trying to talk her out of going. You know how Eirika is when she sets her mind to something."

Seth could not help but smile. "Indeed, my lord." Her face was aglow in the gathering dusk. Even on the eve of battle, on the cusp of a terrible darkness, she remained radiant. "I will do everything in my power to protect her."

"I don't doubt it," Ephraim said, clapping Seth on the shoulder. "But for now why don't you go spar with her? She was looking for a partner a minute ago."

"But–"

"My sister deserves to learn from the best." Ephraim's tone made it clear that he would brook no argument.

Had Ephraim noticed that he'd been avoiding Eirika at camp, Seth wondered fleetingly. It was for her own good– for both of them really...

_Perhaps... I did feel something more for you then._ Even just the memory of those words was enough to make his chest clench, to make him want to reach out and caress her face, to wrap his arms around her. It was better to avoid temptation. It would be easier for both of them if they didn't... socialize.

"Seth, is there a problem?"

Seth straightened. He'd allowed himself to be distracted even in the presence of his King– for that is what Ephraim would be once they returned to Renais. "No, sire. This place is... unsettling. That's all."

Ephraim nodded. "I'm going to tour camp, talk to our troops. I think everyone is a little unsettled this evening. You'll take care of Eirika?" he added with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course."

As Ephraim left, what choice did have but to obey his liege and go to her?

"Seth," she said, smiling as she saw him. Her long hair, flowing down her back, was wind-tousled after a day in the saddle. Her fair skin had burned easily in the heat of the Jehanna desert and was drier now, slightly rough like any soldier's. Her hands were growing calluses from all these months of wielding a blade. He'd wished to spare her from these trials, but she was no longer the innocent girl he'd rescued from Castle Renais... yet somehow, he found he only loved her the more for what she'd become.

He bowed "My lady."

"How are you?" She asked it as if she'd not seen him in ages. It was true, though, that he'd avoided her all day, stood away from her during the briefing a few hours ago, done all he could to avoid having to speak with her.

"I am quite well." He cleared his throat. "Lord Ephraim said you were in a need of a sparring partner."

Her smile faded. "Oh. Yes." His heart ached at the wounded expression that flitted over her features and he so wanted to brush his fingers over her face and tangle them in her wind-blown hair. But his affection could only shame her, he reminded himself. She was a princess and she deserved... she deserved far better than him. "You needn't trouble yourself, Seth," she said, not meeting his eyes.

"It's no trouble, milady," he replied, straightening. "It's important that you feel prepared for whatever we may face in Darkling Woods."

Eirika turned to look towards the Woods. The barren branches of the trees had grown together in a tangled mass like writhing limbs that groaned when the wind trembled through them. It was as if the souls devoured by the Demon King now stood guard over his resting place. "Lyon..." she whispered. "I can't believe we'll have to fight Lyon."

He couldn't help himself. He moved closer to her, lay a hand on her shoulder. "You'll not face him alone."

Closing her eyes a moment, she breathed deeply and then nodded. "I know. But, Seth, after the war, when all this is over..."

His heart was hammering in his chest. "Lady Eirika..." What point was there in contemplating a future that had only duty and heartache to offer him?

"Seth–"

She broke off as he drew his sword and spun towards the forest.

Seth reacted on instinct alone as he sensed something barrelling towards them. But as he knocked Eirika out of the way, bringing them both to the ground, he felt the force of a blow and heat searing his neck. Pain raced through his blood like wildfire.

He never felt the ground beneath him and the pain faded as quickly as it had begun, leaving behind only a kind of languor. He'd been wounded in battle many times, but never before had he felt so weak, so tired. A heaviness settled into his limbs and even his eyelids seemed too heavy to open. He wondered for a moment if he was dying, but, in the end, he was too tired to give it much thought and instead let the darkness wrap him in its warm embrace.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"Maybe archery just isn't our thing. We should try something else." Dozla's bass rumble was unmistakable.

"What do you suggest?"

Seth blinked. Soldiers bustled around him, setting up tents and removing their arms and armour. Dozla and Garcia were off to his left. His hands were empty. Hadn't he been holding his sword a moment ago?

"How about magic?" Dozla said.

Where was Eirika? Hadn't they just been attacked? In fact, hadn't he been... Seth reached up to feel his throat. His fingers came back dry– there was no blood, no pain. _By all that's holy, what in the world..._

"It can't be that difficult to learn. As far as I can tell, it's just a bunch of arm waving and shouting gibberish," Dozla continued.

Why was camp only being set up now? And... it was still light out. The sun had been setting when he'd spoken with Eirika.

"You do have a point," Garcia replied.

Seth glanced over his shoulder to see Dozla thump Garcia on the back, both men looking delighted. "Let's practice sometime soon."

"I'm looking forward to it... Mage!" Hadn't they talked about this earlier in the day? Why were they going over it once again?

A laugh rumbled from Dozla's chest as the two of them marched off, looking as gleeful as squires on their first assignment .

Standing very still, Seth tried to recall exactly what had happened. He'd been speaking with Eirika just as dusk was beginning to settle over camp. He'd sensed something coming towards them from Darkling Woods. And then he'd... He'd been injured, he was certain of it. He'd even thought perhaps he'd been dying, and then...

His pulse was thrumming loudly in his ears. He couldn't be dead; dead men did not have heartbeats. And of all the things he'd pictured the afterlife resembling, their camp was not one of them.

Eirika... She'd been there as well. Was she safe? Had he at least managed to protect her?

"Hello there, general!" He spun to see Forde striding towards him. "You're looking well this evening."

"Have you seen the princess?"

The urgency in his voice seemed to startle Forde who titled his head to peer at him for a moment. "I'm guessing she's already in the war tent for the briefing."

"Briefing?"

"For tomorrow? Are you all right, general?" They'd already had the briefing. Had another one been called that he was unaware of?

In an instant, Seth decided that the wisest course of action would be to nod and go along as if all were normal. Together he and Forde made their way towards the large pavilion tent in the centre of camp that was used for meetings. Teetering between confusion about his own situation and worry for Eirika's safety, Seth tried to calm himself, straining to keep an impassive air on his features all the while.

When they arrived at the pavilion it looked just as it had the last time he'd been here a few hours past. A collapsible table was set up in the centre of the room and a map of the region was layed out atop it. Ephraim was craning over the map, conferring with Duessel about terrain. Innes sniffed and stepped forward to point out something on the map. Off to one side, Lute was holding a pale, twisted staff in her hands that Seth had noticed the last time he'd been in the pavilion. L'Arachel was scolding Rennac in the corner while Joshua watched with unabashed amusement.

Kyle nodded as he and Forde joined him a few paces behind the prince. Only Eirika and Tana were missing now. Seth concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths as he waited.

"Sir Seth, are you well?" Kyle asked.

"Yes," he replied. "I'm fine."

"Are you certain?" Seth took a moment to school his features, for it was not like Kyle to ask a second time.

"Everything is fine."

Kyle's brow crinkled a moment but finally he nodded. "I apologise for pressing you, general. It's just that I wanted to ask if you've noticed any ill effects from our proximity to Darkling Woods." Seth's heart leaped into his throat. Perhaps Kyle had some inkling of what was going on; perhaps he was not the only one finding this afternoon eerily familiar."Forde and I were speaking to some of the footmen and everyone seems very ill at ease and jumpy," Kyle explained and Seth's heart sank as his hope that he was not alone in his strange experience was dashed. "They said they felt as if there were eyes on them at times."

Seth nodded gravely. The woods... Could they be to blame for all this, for his premonition or whatever the hell it had been? "Darkling Woods is the resting place of the Demon King. It's not our troops' imaginations," he said finally. "This is an ill-fated place and reeks of evil. You can assure our soldiers that this is the case, that it's not simply a matter of nerves. They should know that they're not losing their reason, but also the importance of the battle we'll be facing come the morrow."

"Yes, general," Kyle said with a nod. "There was one other thing..."

"Yes?" Seth said distantly, for his heart was thumping furiously as he waited for Eirika to appear. He would have no peace of mind until he saw her with his own eyes.

"You haven't seen commander Syrene, have you?"

Seth shook his head. "I'm sorry. I haven't since–" _Eirika!_ Relief swept over him as Eirika and Tana entered the pavilion, followed by Syrene. Eirika looked as windswept and worn as when he'd last seen her, but there was not a scratch on her. She was safe.

Though he wanted very much to embrace her, to hold her in his arms the way he had the night they'd fled Renais, he contented himself with watching her join Ephraim around the map and drinking in the sight of her smile.

"Now that everyone's here, let's get started," Ephraim said. He began by summarizing the information about Darkling Woods that had been provided to them by Myrrh and Saleh. Yet Seth was puzzled, for he was certain he'd heard all this before– word for word even. When Ephraim went on to describe their battle plan, Seth only become more convinced that this was the same briefing he'd already attended just a few hours ago– a few hours before...

"This doesn't seem... familiar to you, does it?" he whispered to Forde.

Forde shrugged. "These briefings all sound the same to me."

Was it perhaps some sort of premonition he'd had? A waking dream of what was to come?

"We should be less than a day's ride from the black temple," Ephraim continued. "We can expect heavy resistance."

Freed of the necessity of attending to the briefing, Seth let his eyes linger on Eirika. If what he'd experienced had been a premonition then it meant that in a few hours' time she would be in danger. Previously, he'd made a point of concentrating on Ephraim and keeping his eyes away from Eirika, but now he could not help but watch her every move, the grace of her stance, the confidence in matters of war she'd developed as she pointed to the map and asked questions about their forces' deployment. Her sword, as always, was at her hip. She'd become so strong and he wanted only to protect her, to see her through to the end of this war.

Seth stiffened as he noticed Tana glancing over her shoulder at him and then whispering to Eirika– who promptly turned to look at him. He could not look away and her cheeks flushed under the weight of his stare.

"Eirika, what about–" She spun around again as she was addressed and the briefing continued on much as he remembered. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Kyle regarding him with a raised eyebrow that he ignored.

Just as before, he was asked for his opinion regarding formation for their cavalry and he offered the same advice he had some hours ago. It was strange to be saying things he'd already said and hearing replies that he recalled quite clearly, almost as if he'd become an actor in one of the plays by the travelling companies that sometimes entertained at court. All the while, he was painfully aware of Eirika's presence; even when he was not looking in her direction, in his mind's eye he could see the way she was standing, the look on her face, the way she was biting her lip while they discussed the riskiest parts of their strategy.

The briefing lasted just over an hour. Whereas before, he had hurried away in an effort to avoid Eirika, now, as the others began to file out, he lingered. Ephraim was bent over the map once more and seemed unaware of how, a few paces away, Tana was watching him, concern obvious on her features. Lute took the opportunity to set down the strange wooden staff on the table and began studying it with her usual intensity. It was a curious staff; he could not recall having seen one quite like it before. It looked as if it had been carved from a twisted branch, bleached almost white in the sun.

So intent was he on the staff that he was startled when Eirika approached him. "Seth?"

"Yes, my lady?" he said, straightening.

"Is everything all right?" she asked. Her fingers came to rest on his arm for a moment. Her touch, so light, so fleeting, meant nothing– he knew that. If she was more familiar than she should be with an old retainer no one would think twice about it. No one could know how even the slightest touch set his pulse racing. "During the meeting you looked... Well you looked the way you do right before a battle."

"It's nothing you need concern yourself with, my lady."

"Is it tomorrow that you're worried about?"

He shook his head. "I'm certain all will be well. We will prevail. We've no other choice."

"Yes..." Her gaze was distant and he wondered if her thoughts had turned once more to Lyon, but when she did speak she managed a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm sure you're right. " And then, after a pause, "Would you spar with me this evening?"

His blood ran cold. "Perhaps it would be better to save your strength and be sure you're well rested for tomorrow."

Eirika heaved a sigh. "I'm hoping to tire myself out so that I actually will rest. I don't fancy staring at the ceiling of my tent all night."

Hesitating, he tried to think of some other excuse, some other means of dissuading her, but finally he settled for nodding. "All right." If he couldn't prevent her from being in the vicinity of the attack then he might as well make sure he was close-by when it happened.

"Thank you, Seth." This smile was indeed a real one and it pained him to know how much his presence cheered her; it pained him to think that she could feel for him as strongly as he did for her, that she suffered as much from their situation as he. "I have a few things I need to see to, but perhaps we can meet in an hour?"

"As you wish, milady," he said with a bow.

This time, Eirika left the pavilion with a smile on her face.

**ooo**

He would be prepared when it happened this time around. Since he didn't know the precise nature of his attacker he opted to wear light armour, rather than saddling his horse and donning full plate mail. His sword was ready at his side and he brought a shield for good measure. He arrived early at their meeting place and scouted around the outskirts of the woods, but whatever had attacked him the last time was nowhere to be found– assuming what he'd seen had been real at all. Perhaps he was just overtired and his mind was playing tricks on him...

By the time Eirika arrived he'd half convinced himself that he'd imagined the whole thing, but even so, he kept his attention on the woods.

Eirika raised an eyebrow as she noted his armour. "Good evening, milady," he greeted her before she could ask. "Is there anything in particular you wished to work on?"

"No. Nothing specific."

"You could have asked any of the others. Forde and Kyle would be happy to help you train."

Her brow crinkled and she crossed her arms and turned away. "I didn't think sparring constituted _fraternizing_ now as well."

He kept his expression neutral, though the sting in her voice cut him to the quick. _It is not becoming of a noble of Renais to fraternize in this way with her subjects._ Perhaps she'd thought him overbold for his words. But he had only been trying to protect the both of them. Surely she could see how dangerous it was for them to be together? When they were close like this it was all he could to keep from reaching out to touch her.

"Princess–"

This time, when he sensed something coming from the woods, he didn't bother to draw his sword but instantly threw himself towards Eirika, bringing them both to the ground. He felt a searing heat pass close to his neck and a flash of pain, but he was in full command of his senses when they hit the ground. He rolled and leaped to his feet, drawing his sword to face the creature before him: a gwyllgi, its three canine heads snarling as it charged towards him.

Seth dodged away as a second ball of flame shot from the creature's mouth, setting the tent behind him alight. He slashed at the beast, driving it back. At the back of his mind he took note of the shouts he heard from somewhere along the camp's perimeter and the rapid footfalls from all around.

From the corner of his eye he glimpsed Eirika on her feet, sword drawn. He slashed at the gwyllgi again, hoping to distract the beast. It roared and swiped at him with its scythe-like claws. Eirika seized upon its distraction to strike it with her blade. One of the outer heads noticed her and snapped in her direction, but she dodged nimbly away and managed to strike the beast's side. It snarled and swung around towards her and Seth moved in for the killing blow, slashing across its throat.

As the gwyllgi sank to the ground, Seth turned his attention to Eirika, scanning her up and down, checking for injury. "I'm fine," she assured him. "Let's go."

He nodded and together they raced towards the outskirts of the camp. All around, men and women were running toward the west side of camp. Seth's gaze swept the clearing ahead, taking count of their foes– twenty at least, a collection of gwyllgi, gargoyles, and bael. It wasn't a full force attack, more like a scouting party meant to either assess their strength or simply to rattle them. These creatures, after all, were expendable so Riev would not bat an eye at sacrificing a handful if it would damage their morale.

But even taken by surprise, their troops were holding their own and Seth's heart surged with pride at the efficiency with which the foul beasts were being cut down. He and Eirika honed in on a bael that had struck down one of the sentries and was leaning over him, its pincers precariously close to his prone form. Together they made quick work of the huge arachnid, hacking at its spindly limbs until it could no longer support its own weight and collapsed onto the ground. It was Eirika this time who delivered the final blow, her blade sliding into the creature's body up to the quillions. The bael shuddered once and then was still. Eirika jerked her blade out of the corpse with a proficiency that impressed even him. It wasn't so long ago that she would have struggled with such tasks, but she had become an excellent swordwoman in a short period of time, her skill quickly becoming as polished as her blade.

Just as they thought the day won, a second wave skittered out of the woods. A group of gargoyles swooped low, wreaking havoc on the already scattered defenders. Seth glanced at Eirika. She nodded and without a word they charged ahead.

"To me!" Eirika shouted.

"Form up!" Seth bellowed.

He had faith in their troops, but, caught off guard as they'd been and by such numbers, it was important to stay calm and to keep to their tactics. By the time they'd reached the forefront of the battle lines, their troops had gathered together around them and were ready to meet their foes en masse, rather than by ones and twos. The gargoyles swept low again, jabbing with their spears, but before they could come in again for a third pass, a rain of arrows showered down on them. Shrieks like grating metal tore at his ears, but their cries were sweeter than a minstrel's tune as the winged creatures tumbled from the sky.

Eirika was at his side at the front of the lines, hacking at the beasts as they came. A flare of fire and then a flash of bright light tearing through the enemy ranks signalled the arrival of their mages. Seth's blood raced, the taste of victory on his lips. They had driven these creatures back before. They would do so again today. And tomorrow. And as long as need be until the world was purged of their evil.

Glinting gold in the setting sun, Eirika's blade cut though the enemy ranks. How could he ever fail when he fought in the service of one such as she?

The feeble yowl of the dying gwyllgi before him faded away and all at once the air was still. It was over. For a moment, he stood, panting for breath as he surveyed the field of battle. They'd fought well and fared well. To his right, Eirika was winded, but unharmed. Her blade was stained with the rusty red blood of the Demon King's spawn and she paused to wipe flecks of it off her cheek. She was magnificent and his heart swelled with joy to watch her.

She caught his glance and offered a smile and a nod. Already, fresh troops were taking up sentry positions, and lanterns were being brought to help see to the wounded as the dusk faded into night. Now it was time to tend their wounds and clean their blades.

**ooo**

L'Arachel, Natasha, and Moulder had their work cut out for them, that was certain. On the whole, their forces had fared well. Though there were many wounded, some seriously, so far there had not been one fatality as a result of the attack. As Seth played stretcher bearer, helping to carry one of the last of the wounded to the healing tent, he could not but feel tremendous pride in their forces. They had begun as little more than a rag-tag band traipsing across Magvel and now they'd evolved into an elite fighting force, capable of taking on the worst Riev could throw at them.

Upon being relieved of his charge once he reached the healers' pavilion, Seth had planned to return to his tent and strip off his armour and clean it. His neck still burned where the gwyllgi's fire had singed him and he was looking forward to retiring for the evening. When he turned towards the exit, however, he found someone barring his way. "There you are," Eirika said. "I've been looking for you."

"Princess," he said with a bow. "I was about to see to my armour."

Her brow creased ever so slightly. "You should see to yourself first. Your neck..."

"It's merely a scratch."

She shook her head. "Seth, we need you tomorrow. We don't know what we'll be up against once we enter Darkling Woods. I want you in perfect form, is that understood?"

"Yes, Lady Eirika."

"I'll wait with you until someone has time to see to you." He was about to protest, but the way she'd crossed her arms and drawn herself up to her full height made it clear that arguing would be of no use. They moved off to one side to be out of the way of the healers. Eirika left for a few moments and returned holding a damp cloth. "Let me help you with your armour," she said, her fingers reaching for the straps of his breast plate. He stood very still as she fumbled with the buckles, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. As she finished with the straps, he eased off the armour and set it down next to him.

Seth clenched his jaw as he felt the cool cloth press against the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry," Eirika said quietly.

"It's nothing, my lady." The cold water eased the heat of the burn slightly, but he felt unnaturally warm... for Eirika was standing very close to him. Her free hand rested on his arm with a kind of unconscious intimacy that was both endearing and terrifying._Something more..._ That she should feel anything at all for him, a knight, a soldier...

"Seth?"

"Yes, my lady?"

"How did you know?"

"Milady?"

"About the attack this evening. When you came to spar you were wearing your armour already and when the gwyllgi came at us... it was as if you were expecting it."

Seth heaved a sigh. "I... had a premonition of sorts. A waking dream perhaps, I don't know."

"And you saw the attack happen?"

"I..." He hesitated, for what he had seen had ended very differently. He had seen what seemed to be his own death.

"Seth, what is it?" She kept the cloth pressed against his neck but moved to his side to better see his face.

"I saw up to the point where we were attacked."

"And then?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I was struck and then nothing." Her hand clenched spasmodically around his arm. He turned to meet her eye, offering a faint smile. "There's no need to worry, Lady Eirika. All's well."

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes you're right." She paused for a moment and then, "Seth, after the war, when all this is over–"

"Princess, General Seth, may I be of assistance?" Natasha asked. He'd been too distracted to notice her approach and, judging by the scarlet in Eirika's cheeks, she must have been as well.

"Sister Natasha," Eirika said hurriedly. "Could you spare a moment to treat Seth?"

"It's nothing," Seth protested.

"Even so," Eirika insisted.

"Of course, Princess," Natasha said, smiling. "Let me have a look." Eirika backed away and Seth was suddenly aware of the loss of her warmth next to him. Natasha inspected the burn and then lifted her staff. "This will only take a moment."

The touch of the staff's magic was like a kind of prickling along his skin, strange, but not altogether unpleasant. After a few seconds the stinging heat of the burn eased away and then disappeared entirely.

"All done," Natasha announced.

"Thank you, Sister Natasha," Seth said, bowing his head.

"It was good that you brought him, Princess. The burn wasn't severe, General, but it could have become infected without treatment. Please do take care." He nodded. "If there's nothing else, please excuse me."

"Of course," Eirika said. "Thank you."

As Natasha walked away, Seth turned to Eirika. "With your leave, Lady Eirika, I'd like to tend to my armour and rest. We've a long day ahead of us."

She'd been eyeing the newly healed skin on his neck and now turned to look him in the face. "Yes, of course. Seth, I–" She heaved a sigh. "Never mind. Have a good rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

"My lady," he said with a bow before picking up his breastplate and returning to his tent.

He made quick work of cleaning his armour and though it was still early, he put out the lantern and lay down on his bedroll. Outside, he could hear the muted sounds of chatter around the campfires. But their talk did not have its usual pitch; there was a reserve that was not normally present, as if their unease about the future trickled into their idle talk. No one was certain what tomorrow would bring or whether they would ever see another sunset. For now, all they could do was wait and rest. It was with these thoughts that Seth drifted to sleep, his mind dancing with visions of Eirika riding triumphantly back to their homeland... and himself trailing, as always, behind her.

**ooo**

"Maybe archery just isn't our thing. We should try something else." Dozla's bass rumble was unmistakable.

"What do you suggest?"

Standing once more in the heart of their bustling camp in the orange light of late afternoon, the only coherent thought Seth could form was, _What the in the hell?_

* * *

**A/N**: Two notes. 1) Dozla and Garcia's dialogue comes directly from their B support, just so you know. 2) I realize that in the game gwyllgis do not in fact breath fire, but since the folkloric creature is reputed to, I thought it would make battles a little more interesting, so I hope you'll forgive this slight AU-ness.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"How about magic?" Dozla said. "It can't be that difficult to learn. As far as I can tell, it's just a bunch of arm waving and shouting gibberish," Dozla continued.

"You do have a point," Garcia replied.

It was only Seth's years of training as a knight and his experience in battle that allowed him to stay calm rather than follow his first instinct to dissolve into complete and utter panic.

"Let's practice sometime soon."

"I'm looking forward to it... Mage!"

A laugh rumbled from Dozla's chest as the two of them marched off, looking as gleeful as squires on their first assignment.

Surely this could not be happening... again. Perhaps he was dreaming. Slowly, methodically, Seth rolled up his sleeve, took some skin between his thumb and forefinger, and pinched it as hard as he could. He winced, first at the discomfort and then at the fact that he did seem to be awake. Which, under the circumstances, was not good.

"Hello there, general! You're looking well this evening." He didn't bother to turn as Forde approached him.

All right... He needed to stay calm and think clearly. Setting aside the notion that he'd lost his mind since there was really nothing he could do if that were the case, what did that leave? Magic– dark magic at that– seemed the most likely explanation, and with their being in such close proximity to the resting place of the Demon King, it didn't see _too_ far-fetched to suggest that some type of evil magic was at work.

"General?" Forde was peering at him, head titled to one side. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I'm..." He needed to speak to someone who knew about magic. Saleh. Saleh was an accomplished mage and knowledgeable about the region and the lore surrounding the Demon King. Certainly he would be able to shed some light on the situation. "Forde, tell Lord Ephraim that I can't make it to the briefing."

"Can't–"

"Tell him I have something urgent to see to," Seth said before striding away, trying not wince at the expression of disbelief on Forde's face. He knew his behaviour must seem erratic, but unless he figured out what was going on, it seemed entirely possible that none of this would matter in twelve hours' time.

Having been in the briefing room at this time twice before, he really had no idea where to find Saleh. He had to ask directions to the man's tent and found it quite empty when he arrived there. Without any idea of what Saleh did in his spare time, Seth found himself wandering the camp, craning his neck to look this way and that in the hope of spotting Saleh, while occasionally stopping someone to ask if they'd seen him. At worst he supposed he could try it all again tomorrow, though the thought was not one he relished. This was only the third time; he'd not yet given up hope that things would sort themselves out and that the sun would rise tomorrow as it always had.

Seth was surprised when he found the mage talking to Gerik of all people; he'd not been aware that the two were so well acquainted. Pausing a short distance away, he watched as Gerik gave Saleh a nod and one of his broad smiles before marching off without taking any notice of Seth. Seth's hands were slick as he drew breath and finally summoned the nerve to hail the mage.

Saleh's features were as impassive as always as he turned to face Seth. "How may I help you, General Seth?"

"I was hoping you might be able to answer some questions regarding... magic, dark magic in particular."

Saleh's brow crinkled slightly. "Very well. Though Knoll might be more knowledgeable about dark magic that I."

"I also had questions about Darkling Woods."

"Ah. I see. Shall we walk, general?"

Seth nodded and together they began to wander through the camp at a leisurely stroll. Clasping his hands behind his back, Seth made an effort to keep his pose and his tone relaxed. "Have you ever heard of a type of magic that affects time?" Seth began cautiously. He had no intention of discussing the precise nature of his quandary– surely they would think him mad; he half thought himself so as it was.

Brow creased, Saleh pondered Seth's question a while before offering a reply. "I have heard of staves that can affect the target in unusual ways, like a Berserk or Sleep wands do. It's said that some rare staves had other properties, that they could make time stop for an opponent, leaving him unable to attack or to defend himself. Others are said to reverse a target's action, effectively moving them back in time for the space of a few seconds, a minute perhaps."

"But you've never seen any such staff?"

Saleh shook his head. "I've read of them, but no I've never seen one."

Seth mulled this information over as they continued to stroll by the rows of tents. Judging by the light, he still had over an hour before the attack, plenty of time to give warning and to prepare himself. They would fare better this time now that he knew what was coming and could warn the others. And Eirika... He would make sure she was out of harm's way this time.

"And what of Darkling Woods?" Seth asked. "Have you ever heard of the woods causing any sort of... unusual occurrences?"

The mage came to a halt, knitting his brows as he turned to look Seth in the face. "General, is there something going on? I'm sure I could prove a better guide if I knew the exact nature of what you were trying to ask me."

He was a terrible liar; Seth knew this of himself. The best way he could handle things when honesty was not an option, was to sidestep the issue or avoid it entirely when possible. Surely if he were a better liar he could have convinced Eirika that he didn't feel the way he did instead of ducking out of her presence as he had been of late. A kind lie would have caused a small wound, perhaps, one easily healed, rather than this drawn-out game of hide and seek, in which they each by turns pretended not to feel as they did, not to notice each other across a room.

"Sir Seth?"

Seth cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Master Saleh. I would be more specific if I could."

With a nod, Saleh resumed strolling. Though so many of the faces as they passed were lined with tension, men and women walking stiff-shouldered and weary, dreading what might come with daylight, Saleh's features remained calm, as if the threat of the Demon King were as little to him as a day of rain. Perhaps it was the result of living in the shadow of Darkling Wood one's entire life, Seth mused.

"There's little to tell of Darkling Woods that hasn't already been told," Saleh said finally. "The woods are filled with dark energies, a residue from the battle with the Demon King. What effects those energies may have beyond those we're already familiar with, I can't say."

"I see," Seth said. "Thank y–"

"Seth!" His heart leaped at the sound of Eirika's voice. He turned to see her walking towards them at a quick pace. She looked as harried as any of the soldiers. "Good day, Master Saleh. How fare you?" she said with a polite nod.

"Very well, Princess. Thank you."

Eirika looked from one to the other. "I came about–" She paused a moment, glancing at Seth. "Forde said you had to attend to an urgent matter. Is everything all right?"

Seth cleared his throat and straightened as both the mage and the princess peered at him, eyebrows raised. He supposed it was as good a time as any. "I have reason to believe there will be an attack on camp shortly before dusk."

"What?"

"They will attack from the west, coming out of the woods, and try to take our sentries by surprise."

Eirika's expression was a mixture of worry and surprise. "How do you know that?"

He shook his head. "I can't explain at this time." And then, looking directly at her, "Lady Eirika, I must ask that you trust me."

She searched his features as if hoping to find an answer there, but finally nodded. "All right. Go ahead and organize a force. I'll inform Ephraim of what's going on. I was just speaking to him..." The way she averted her eyes, her brow creasing slightly as she said this last, caught his attention. He did his best to quash his curiosity: It was not becoming of a knight to question what his liege lords were discussing.

"Thank you, my lady," he said, offering a bow, though his mind was racing to try to figure out how he would keep an eye on her. The last two times she'd ended up on the outskirts of camp, but in both cases it had been because she'd been intending to spar. He hoped the knowledge of the coming attack would keep her out of harm's way this time, but he wasn't about to take any chances.

"Might I be of assistance to you, general?" Saleh asked.

"Your help would be most appreciated," Seth replied.

As they parted ways, Seth could not stem the rising sense of unease that washed through him as he watched Eirika walk away.

**ooo**

"Kyle, I need to check on something," Seth said. "I'm leaving you in command. Understood?"

"Yes, general," Kyle replied with a curt nod. He could see the flicker of doubt on Kyle's features– that their commander should choose to leave just before the beginning of a battle was odd to say the least– but Seth was grateful for Kyle's discipline as he accepted without questioning him.

Eirika was nowhere to be seen. He should have been relieved by this fact, but instead his heart was racing and sweat trickled down his neck. He needed to check the clearing where they'd prepared to spar the last time. He needed to be certain.

He turned his mount in that direction at a quick trot. There was no one there save the sentries a short distance away, but neither was Eirika where she was supposed to be, with the second line that he had passed on the way. His heart was hammering against his ribs. There was no reason to worry; Eirika could fend for herself, and yet...

The silence that had fallen over their camp when Ephraim had announced that they should prepare for battle, was shattered by their soldiers' battle calls. Tight around his horse's reins, Seth's palms were slick. He should be there. But what difference did it make if this were to all begin again? All he knew was that he had to make sure Eirika was safe. Even if it would mean nothing in a few hours' time, he couldn't bear to see her harmed.

Blocking out the sounds of battle, Seth continued to scour the outskirts of their camp. He nearly cried out with relief when he finally caught sight of her. She was inspecting her mare's hoof, a look of consternation on her face. Glancing up as she heard his mount's hoofbeats, Eirika appeared quite puzzled as she lay eyes on him. But he didn't care. All that mattered was that she was safe.

Before he could reach her, Eirika's mare neighed and reared up, sending Eirika stumbling backwards out of the way. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as his own bay stallion whuffed and shifted uneasily. He turned him around and was shocked to see not one, but two gwyllgi tearing though camp directly towards them.

Seth wasted no time wondering where the beasts had come from, but instead put himself between them and the princess and charged towards them. Eirika could handle herself against one, he was certain of that, so as long as he could engage at least one of the beasts they would be fine.

As he drew close to the gwyllgi, the two creatures moved to circle around him, one to the left and one to the right... as if they intended specifically to go after Eirika. He tugged on the reins and his stallion made a quick turn, bringing them along side one of the canid beasts. Seth swung his sword low, leaving a long trail of blood along the beast's side. He only managed to graze it, but it was enough to catch the gwyllgi's attention. Its cry– too high pitch to be properly called a howl– had his stallions pulling its ears back against its skull, but his war horse was well trained and did not balk as he had them manoeuver closer to the beast. A snarl from deep in its chest poured out of all three heads. He kept his horse diagonal to the creature so that he'd have a clear striking area for his sword. If he'd had his lance this would have been a great deal easier, but limited to his sword's shorter reach he'd have to either dismount or wait for the gwyllgi's attack.

It came with as little warning as lightning.

Reacting on instinct alone, he brought his sword up before him, swinging outward even as his horse sprang forward. The force of the gwyllgi's momentum nearly tore the blade from his hands, but he managed his keep his hold though it sent a painful jolt through his shoulders.

He kneed his stallion to turn again towards the gwyllgi. The creature lay on the ground, quite motionless save for the rusty blood that oozed from across its throat and chest.

Seth's heart leaped into his throat as he heard Eirika cry out. He looked in her direction in time to see her on the ground rolling away from the burst of flame that had erupted from the mouth of the second gwyllgi. She sprang to her feet again and he could see now that the creature was injured. He charged towards them, but before he'd reached them Eirika had launched herself at the wounded beast and, moments later, it slid off her blade, gurgling its last breath.

"Seth," she said, panting for breath.

"Are you all right?" he asked, scanning her up and down, trying to be sure that the blood on her armour was that of her foe.

"I'm... fine," she managed between breaths. "You're here. How..."

He shook his head. "Never mind that now. We're still under attack."

She nodded. "Yes, you're right. I guess I'll continue on foot," she said, glancing over her shoulder in the direction her mare had retreated during the battle and now was prancing about nervously. "She's thrown a shoe. It was fine when I checked her earlier but..."

He held out his hand. She hesitated only a second before taking it and climbing into the saddle in front of him.

As they charged towards the battle lines on the outskirts of camp, Seth was thankful for his armour, that it kept him from feeling the softness of her body against his. Just having her in the saddle before him, sitting between his arms as he gripped the reins, made his blood race faster. When she was close to him like this, he felt as if there were no evil he could not face, no enemy he couldn't conquer.

It was with reluctance that he let her down with the rest of the unit she had originally planned to be with. They were just about to move in to help the first battle line and, though it pained him to let her slide out of the saddle and out of his care, he left her to stand on her two feet and join the fray as was her wish and her right. But he stayed with her unit. He would stay close to her. No one would deny him that, not today.

The battle ended quickly this time with fewer injuries thanks to their preparations. Eirika was well, no one had died, and Seth allowed himself a glimmer of hope that he might see the sun rise.

**ooo**

He'd cleaned his sword and his armour, but this time, Seth did not want to rest. It was as if he'd hardly done anything. He had spoken to Saleh, prepared for and fought a battle, helped tend the injured, and then seen to his things– again. Sitting in his tent, much as he had the last time, he could hear the muted hum of conversation from outside, a constant murmur. Yet he felt strangely isolated. What he yearned for was meaningful interaction, to talk to his comrades, to see their smiles, to share in their laughter and their worries. These hours he was reliving (and he realized he did not even know precisely how many) were draining, not so much on his body, but on his spirits certainly.

"Seth? Are you still up?"

He started at the sound of Eirika's voice outside his tent. He hesitated an instant but then rose and pulled back the tent flap and stepped outside. "Yes, my lady."

"You disappeared so quickly after the battle. I wanted to speak to you."

"Shall we walk, then?" he said motioning outwards.

As she nodded and, together, they began to stroll through camp, he made up his mind. He would not sleep tonight. Either morning would come as it always had, as he'd believed it always would, or he would learn precisely what the edges of his existence had become. And if it came to that, if indeed he found himself in a cage made not of bars, but of the fabric of his own life, he would learn its weave in perfect detail... and tear it.

He glanced at Eirika as they walked in silence. A mantle was draped around her shoulders to keep out the unseasonable chill and she'd pulled the hood up over her head. "Are you worried about tomorrow?" she asked him finally.

"No, my lady. I'm certain we'll be victorious. We've no other choice." He could hardly tell her that what he was really concerned about was whether there would be a tomorrow at all.

"It's just that you look so serious." And then, with a slight smile and a raised eyebrow, "More than usual I mean."

He smiled but then found himself at a loss for words and they lapsed into silence once more. "How did you know?" she asked after a time.

"About the battle? I... had a premonition of sorts." It was the closest thing to the truth he could manage.

She knitted her brows. "A premonition? That's not like you, Seth."

He shrugged. "I've no better way of explaining it."

The way she was watching him so intently made him more than a little uncomfortable. He hated lying to her, but the truth? The truth was almost too much for he himself to believe. But she seemed to accept his answer and they continued to walk the lines of tents side by side. The light was dim so no one took much notice of them save every now and again when a sentry would peer into her hood and, recognising her, bow and murmur "Good evening, princess."

They had wandered close to the centre of camp and he could glimpse the flickering fires and hear the buzz of chatter when she spoke once again. "Seth?"

"Hmm?"

"After the war, when we return home to Renais–"

"General! Care to join us?"

Seth spun in surprise as Forde called out to him. He was abashed to find that his attention had been so focussed on Eirika that he'd been little aware of his surroundings. They'd been walking by a group of their Renais comrades and he'd not so much as noticed them. Gathered around one of the fires, seated on cloth backpacks or blankets to keep out the chill from the earth, were a host of friendly faces. Kyle, Forde, Franz with his young Grado friend– Amelia, he thought– Neimi, Garcia, and Ross.

"Princess," Kyle said, standing.

"Be at ease," she said before they could all rise to their feet. More than fending off the chill, this was the reason she'd chosen to draw up her hood. He felt at once grateful for the easiness between them and ashamed that there was something more to it than simple familiarity.

"Would you care to join us?" Kyle offered, motioning towards the assembled group. "We were about to offer a toast. We've some wine... of a sort."

Forde grimaced. "It's mostly water."

Eirika stepped forward into their circle. They made space for her. He tried not to look at her face as he made a point of sitting on the opposite side of the ring rather than next to her, but he glimpsed a flicker of regret on her features. Her voice, as she spoke, gave no hint of turmoil; she sounded calm, confident, as a princess should. "A toast to what?"

"To Renais," Kyle said, raising his tin cup.

"And to victory!" Garcia added in his resounding baritone.

Forde passed him a flask and, with the others, Seth took a long swig... and grimaced. It _was_ mostly water.

"So what are your plans after the war, Sir Garcia?" Eirika asked.

"No honorifics are necessary, Princess," Garcia said. "I gave up my title ages ago. My plans are simple. I'll return to Ide and help rebuild. After that I may re-enlist, if you highness would have me."

"We'd be honoured," Eirika replied, with a nod. "And you, Neimi?" she asked, turning to the archer, who looked abashed as all eyes turned to her.

"I– I don't know. With our village gone, Colm and I don't have anywhere to go, but as long as we have each other," she added more cheerily, "I know we'll be all right." No one was much surprised when she immediately became teary-eyed.

"Well I plan get some painting done when I get back home," Forde announced. "Kyle, you can have my brushes if I don't make it through tomorrow. Painting would be good for you, help you loosen up a little."

Kyle looked as serious as ever, though, his brow deeply lined. "You shouldn't talk like that."

Forde shrugged. "Better to be prepared _I_ say. General," he said with a burst of enthusiasm that caused Seth to suppress a groan. "Tell me, if you knew this were your last day, what would you do?"

Forde meant it lightly, as he meant most things lightly, but Seth could not help but brood over the question. After all, how different was it from his current situation? It was not his last day so much as his only day, but even so... "I should hope," he began finally, "that I would live my last day as I'd lived all the other days of my life."

"So you have no regrets then, Sir Seth?" Kyle asked.

"A few perhaps." Seth's breath caught when his eyes met Eirika's across the fire. But only for an instant as he looked hurriedly away.

Seth was surprised when Kyle rose to his feet. "I have something I need to take care of," Kyle announced summarily. "Goodnight to you all," he added with a bow and walked away with long, determined strides.

Forde snickered. "He's off to see a lady, I'll bet. The ladies always did like him, ever since we were kids," he said with a wink.

The murmur of conversation rose and fell like the tide and Seth found himself listening more to its flow than to the particulars of what was being said. Eirika moved frequently, spending a while speaking to each of her subjects and soldiers in turn. She asked them about their homes, their plans, their dreams, keeping them focussed on the future rather than the grimness of the coming battle. She was doing all she could to help morale and Seth could not help but watch her with great admiration.

Some of the others took their leave, either to speak to other comrades or to rest. Their company had been reduced by half when Lute wandered into the flickering light of their campfire and scanned the group as if looking for something. "Have you seen Knoll?" she asked finally.

"Not since the battle," Forde replied. "Why?"

"I think he may have something of mine," she said vaguely. "You know how those dark mages are."

Forde was staring at her, head titled to one side. "Umm... No?"

"They're sneaky. It's well documented. But if you haven't seem him I'll be on my way."

"Wait a sec!" Forde called out after her. "What does he have of yours?"

"A staff," she said and then was off again.

"That was odd," mumbled Forde, shaking his head. "But nothing new there I suppose."

Seth sighed, for he would have to talk to Lute and all the mages if his... problem... continued. It was not a thought he relished. Knoll would be first if it came to that. He seemed a sensible straightforward sort of fellow, less eccentric than some of the other magic-users.

"Seth." His heart racing, he glanced up to see Eirika standing near him. She took a seat next to him. For an instant he felt panic thrill through him for what would the others think, but, he realized that she had spoken to them each in turn, leaving him for last, so there would seem nothing at all unusual in it.

"My lady."

"Are you tired? You've been so quiet..."

"I am well. You needn't be concerned, Lady Eirika."

She simply nodded. He was not unaware of the woodenness of his reply. He wanted nothing more than to be near her, to speak with her freely and easily as they had until recently, but the temptation was too great. If the hours began again... He could say– or do– anything he wished, and in half a day's time no one would be the wiser. No one would know... save he himself and how could he live the shame? It was torment.

"Do you plan to stay up a while?"

He nodded. "A little longer I think."

"Please make sure you're well rested for tomorrow. We need you," she said earnestly.

"And you, my lady."

His heart skipped a beat when she squeezed his hand and his fingers, seemingly with a mind of their own, squeezed back. "Goodnight, Seth," she said, a faint smile on her lips.

"Goodnight, my lady. Sleep well."

Seth watched her as she pulled the hood up over her head once more and walked away, disappearing between the rows of tents. Shortly afterwards he took his leave, but instead of returning to his tent he walked their camp until late into the night.

It was no more than two or three hours before dawn by his reckoning. His feet ached from walking the rows of tents these past hours. The camp was silent now save for the sentries who paced about much as he did, though earlier in the night he'd heard evidence of more... _lively_ happenings from some of the tents as he passed by.

He'd almost convinced himself that today the sun would indeed rise when–

**ooo**

"Hello there, general!" Forde called out to him. "You're looking well this evening." He was going to grow tired of hearing that every ten or eleven hours...


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Maybe archery just isn't our thing. We should try something else." Seth heaved a sigh at Dozla's now familiar words and strode towards the war pavilion before Forde could catch up to him and tell him how well he looked today. It was becoming increasingly difficult to rein in his impatience. It was true that if he were to do something unbecoming of a knight– such as knocking a comrade upside the head for instance– no one would remember it half a day later, but the fracas it would cause was, frankly, too much trouble to bother with.

He managed to reach the pavilion ahead of Forde and all was as it had always been. L'Arachel was still berating Rennac. Innes was looking as haughty as ever as he pointed to the map. Lute was still inspecting the pale, twisted staff. It was she who was his target to today. Knoll, Artur, Myrrh, as well as subsequent visits with Saleh, had all proven equally uninformative. No matter how he chose to phrase his questions (and he had gone so far as to propose his exact predicament as a theoretical situation) no one had been able to offer any insight. He had even stooped to asking Ewan but the young mage had only found Seth's idea delightful and gabbled about how wonderful it would be to be able to have no consequences to deal with– no one to berate you for not attending your studies or for pulling a particularly clever prank.

Seth heaved a sigh. It might have been bearable if not for the battle, if not for the way troubles seemed to follow Eirika like a curse.

"Hello there, general!" Seth grimaced as Forde stepped into the tent and came to join him. "You're looking well this evening.

A grunt was all Seth managed as a reply.

Kyle moved to join them. "Sir Seth, are you–"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Are–"

"Yes. Everything is fine." He had taken to avoiding the briefing as often as possible, but since Lute had proven tricky to track down in the evening, speaking to her after the briefing seemed his best option.

Kyle's brow crinkled and Forde was staring at Seth with raised eyebrows. But what did his rudeness mean when all this would be as nothing by tomorrow? What did anything he say matter while they were all trapped in this endless circle?

"I apologise for pressing you, general," Kyle said slowly, perhaps, Seth thought, worried that he'd caused offence. "It's just that I wanted to ask if you've noticed–"

"Yes I've noted the ill-effects of the woods. You can tell the footmen and any others who ask that this is an ill-fated place indeed, that Riev's forces are gathering in the woods as we speak and that tomorrow's battle will change all our fates." _If we ever see the morrow..._

Kyle was staring openly now but finally managed to stammer a "Yes, general." He hesitated a moment then, but before he could even begin to ask his question, Seth jumped in.

"Commander Syrene will be coming with Princess Eirika and Princess Tana in a moment."

No sooner had he said the words than the three walked into the war pavilion leaving Forde and Kyle goggling at him. Seth heaved a sigh and waited for Ephraim to begin the meeting and for his chance to jump in and speed things up. Briefings were tedious enough the first time around let alone the fifth.

**ooo**

"And if you position the archers here," Seth said pointing to the map, "then we should have an advantage over our foes. And," he continued before Innes could object as he had on previous occasions when the formation had been suggested by Ephraim, "if we position my unit here, we can protect them from flanking attacks."

Duessel, Ephraim, and most everyone in the room was nodding– as well they should since this was the plan they had all agreed upon every other time, though normally it took twice as long to reach an agreement.

Innes was staring at the map, eyes narrowed in concentration, but finally he too nodded. "I approve."

"In that case I think we can adjourn," Ephraim announced. "Nicely done, Seth."

"Thank you, Lord Ephraim," Seth replied with a bow. If only they would hurry up and leave he could get on with speaking to Lute. By now he had little reason to hope she would know more than any of the others had, but it couldn't be worse than the time he'd run into L'Arachel and decided to ask her on the off chance she had any useful information to offer. What he'd gotten was an earful about the power of righteousness and how it would smite injustice and thwart evil. Nothing to tell him how he'd gotten into this situation or how to get out of it. Unless of course he'd committed a crime and this was some strange form of penance.

"Seth." He turned, his heart skipping as Eirika addressed him. He usually tried to duck out before she could speak to him. "That was impressive."

"Thank you, Princess," he replied, offering a bow. Warning her about the battle was of little use. No matter what he did she always ended up in danger somehow. He'd warned her to check her mare's shoe and though that was taken care of she ended up being waylaid by a sentry and once again attacked by a pair of gwyllgis. He'd tried finding excuses to stay by her side or to have her stay by his through the battle, but somehow they always become separated and the gwyllgis always came as if they had her scent, as if they were tracking her.

"Would you have time to spar with me this evening?"

He bowed his head. "I don't think that will be possible, my lady." Her brow crinkled and he plowed on before she could ask and before she would begin to wonder again if he was trying to avoid her. "I have reason to believe that Riev's forces are gathering on the edge of the woods and will attack shortly before dusk."

"What? Seth, how do you know that?

"I cannot explain at this time. For now I can only ask that you trust me, my lady." He hated having to ask for her trust day in and day out as if he were reciting lines. Even before asking he knew what her answer would be. Did that not rob his request of all integrity? Even if his intentions were good, it seemed manipulative somehow. Surely human interactions could only be meaningful if there was risk involved, uncertainty...

Eirika stared at him fixedly for several moments and finally nodded... as he'd known she would. "Of course, Seth."

"I apologise, Princess Eirika, but I have something I must take care of. Could I impose upon you to warn Lord Ephraim? I'll join you shortly."

"All right. But Seth, are you sure..."

"Yes, my lady, I'm certain. Please forgive me," he added, bowing his head once again. If he could simply tell her... but she would think him mad. And he wouldn't blame her.

She nodded and then headed out of the pavilion. He waited until he was certain she would not return before walking over to the collapsible table in the centre of the pavilion where Lute was poring over that odd wooden staff.

"I was wondering if I might speak with you."

Lute glanced up and peered at him as if he were a species of insect that she'd not seen before. "Do you have need of my genius?"

Seth's eyebrows arched ever so slightly. "Well yes, I suppose you might say that. I'd like to consult you on matters related to a peculiar situation which might involve sorcery of an obscure nature."

Lute drew herself up. "In that case you're speaking to the correct individual. There's simply no one better than me, especially in matters of esoteric magical knowledge."

"I'm... glad to hear that," Seth said, taking a seat on one of the collapsible stools set around the table. "I wish to ask if you've ever heard of a situation such as the one I describe. A single individual is somehow afflicted with a curse that causes him or her to relive the same day over and over with that person being the only one aware of the situation. Is there any precedent for something of that sort?"

"Oh I'm familiar with that legend," she said in an off-hand manner, her attention returning to the staff.

"Oh?" Seth said, trying to rein in the sudden burst of hope that flared to life, lifting his flagging spirits.

"A man offended the gods and, as punishment, he was tasked with rolling a stone to the top of a hill. But the stone always rolled down before it reached the top and he was forced to begin again over and over. The story you mention is a similar motif, a situation of utter frustration and futility."

"I see," Seth said gravely, his hope turning to ash in an instant. "Was there no succour for the man, then?"

"No," Lute replied vaguely. "But he'd committed a number of unforgivable crimes and was guilty of hubris in the face of the gods."

Hubris. Overweening pride and presumption. Eirika's face flickered before his mind's eye. He had taken care to rein in his words, his actions, but his heart's overleaping ambition knew no bounds.

"Thank you for your time," he said quietly. Lute, her attention entirely taken up by the pale wooden staff, did not bother to reply.

Holding back a sigh at yet another dead end, Seth tried to convince himself that there were yet other avenues to investigate. The woods themselves could somehow be the culprit. They were, after all, rife with evil magic. Surely there must be something causing his predicament. Punishment from the gods seemed an unlikely explanation. If he had done something worthy of such punishment they would surely not be so unjust as to force everyone else into this perpetual torment as well.

For a minute or so he watched Lute as she continued to carefully inspect the staff. Her attention to detail was impressive. "What manner of staff is that precisely?"

"I'm not entirely certain," she replied, never taking her eyes off the staff. "It's very unusual. I've never seen anything like it before, though it does bear some similarities to staves mentioned in the book of Sisyphium, chapter three, paragraph forty-three."

"Is that so?" Seth's replied, stifling a groan. He should have known better than to expect a straight answer from the peculiar mage.

"Yes. It is so. I've been trying to find the time to make a detailed study of it since Prince Ephraim handed it over. He said it was discovered in the treasury in Grado's capital. It's quite peculiar. See these marking?" She pointed to a series of what looked (to him anyway) like scratches on the underside of one of the twists of the wood.

"What about them?"

"They're ancient runic inscriptions. They're somewhat faded, but from what I've been able to decipher the staff is somehow related to time."

"Time?" Seth prodded, perking up at this information.

Lute nodded. "Activating it should be a simple enough matter but I'm not sure yet of its exact effects on the target. It's possible it's meant for battle and freezes the target in place, for instance, making him vulnerable to attacks. Or it might slow down time in the user's area, making him appear to his enemies to move faster."

"I see," Seth said quietly. "You said it was discovered in Grado?"

"Yes. It seems to be very rare and quite ancient. It's an amazing discovery. In fact–"

She broke off and started as Knoll paused at the entrance of the pavilion. He asked something of one of the sentries and then disappeared into camp. "Excuse me," Lute said hurriedly, leaping to her feet, and strode out of the war tent before Seth could so much as formulate a question.

Though he waited a good ten or so minutes Lute did not return. But then he supposed there was not much more that he had to ask her in any case. Her theories about the staff were interesting, but there was still nothing to suggest it was the cause of his predicament. Except... hadn't she said that one time around the campfires that her staff had been missing?

"Sir Seth." He turned as a foot soldier appeared in the doorway. "Lord Ephraim is asking for you."

With a nod, Seth rose but then paused for a moment, looking back at the pale staff. He supposed he could return here later. And if that didn't work there was always tomorrow... so to speak.

**ooo**

It was not the first time he'd had to convince Ephraim of the reality of the imminent attack. By now he knew exactly what to say and what to avoid. He felt very much like an actor in a tired play and it was difficult to summon enough enthusiasm to be at all convincing. All the while, Eirika's eyes were fixed on him and he could see the concern in her features. He felt a pang knowing that he was forever worrying her so.

By the time he was able to tear himself away from the battle preparations, the sun was precariously low. He arrived at the war tent in time to see Garcia and Dozla exiting, the latter gripping the staff and then swinging it over his shoulder as one might an axe.

"Just what we need to practice with," Dozla was saying.

Seth groaned. It seemed Lute was mistaken in her assumption that Knoll was responsible for her staff going missing.

Hesitating a moment as the two bury axe-wielders-turned-mages strolled away, Seth made up his mind and set off after them, remaining at a discreet distance. There was still time before the battle; after all, he had the timing down almost perfectly by now.

"Sir Seth!" he didn't slow as one of the soldiers called out to him and had to set off at a trot to catch up to him. "Sir Kyle was asking after you. You're needed on the battle line."

"I'll be coming shortly," Seth replied without bothering to turn and look at the man. They were players, all of them, it seemed, all known to him from performance after performance. He had heard it all before and he knew his lines well by now."Tell everyone to have the archers ready behind the front lines. And ask Princess Eirika to check her mare's front left shoe. I thought I saw a limp in her stride earlier."

The soldier hesitated a moment before giving a curt nod. "Yes, general."

Ahead of him, Garcia and Dozla were chatting merrily about their endeavour of mastering conjuring as they headed towards the outskirts of camp. Whatever they'd been up to this evening it seemed they'd not been made aware of the impending attack– a fact which only made things more complicated. They came to a halt when they reached a glade by the eastern edge of camp and began their "training".

It was with a mounting sense of irritation that Seth watched the men swinging the staff around as if it were an axe; their voices, too, had become grating after all this time. When the inevitable finally happened and the staff thumped Garcia quite soundly on the head, Seth could not help but roll his eyes.

"My apologies," said Dozla as Garcia, rubbing his head, straightened and glowered at his oafish companion.

It was getting late. He needed to head back to camp to prepare for battle, yet the lure of something new and possibly helpful to his cause kept him rivetted to the spot, watching the two men as they blundered about.

"Here I'll use the staff to heal that in a jiff," Dozla announced. He began waving his arms wildly and muttering something Seth could not make out. But this time, instead of whacking a much warier Garcia, the staff began to glow. "See? It's working!" A pale light emanated from the staff in slow pulses and then suddenly a jet of flame blazed towards Garcia. Garcia cursed as he smothered embers in what was left of his badly singed beard.

But all at once the angle of the sun set Seth's heart racing. It was time to go. The attack would begin soon and he must play his designated role as he did day in and day out.

It was when he was saddling his horse that he realized something was terribly wrong for there was Eirika's mare and Eirika herself, nowhere to be seen. By now she should have been inspecting the mare's shoe, but she was nowhere in sight. "Have you seen Princess Eirika?" he asked the nearest soldier, a young man who'd lost his left arm early in the war but insisted on continuing with them as groomsman and general aid.

"Aye, general. She was here not ten minutes ago. Her mare's thrown a shoe though so she decided to go afoot. I offered to saddle another horse for her ladyship but..." He shrugged.

Seth cursed under his breath. He hurried to finish saddling his horse who snorted in protest as he tightened the girth with a jerk. His mind raced as he traced her steps and calculated the timing of it all. He should not have lingered so long watching his comrades make buffoons of themselves.

His heart leaped into his throat when the sounds of battle washed over the camp. He was late.

Seth heeled his horse and charged. The gwyllgis that had so often attacked her here, on the outskirts of their camp, were nowhere to be seen. His heart pounded, for neither was Eirika.

When he arrived, their forces were already heavily engaged with the first wave of monsters that had emerged from Darkling Woods. Scanning the battle line for the distinctive crimson of her tunic, he tried to locate Eirika in the fray. Panic gripped him as he was unable to spot her.

He drew his sword and cut a path through the ranks of gwyllgi and bael before him. There were Kyle and Forde hacking away at a scuttling bael that had nearly broken through their lines. A trio of gargoyles swooped low but were shot down by archers in short order. The triple howl from the three heads of a dying gwyllgi carried through the air like an ill wind and still he could not find her.

He should never have left her side. He should never have let her leave his sight. It was his duty to protect her, to watch over her as he had sworn to King Fado, to Lord Ephraim, and to Eirika herself.

Through the battle cries and the monsters' shrieks, the sound of Eirika's scream pierced Seth's awareness like an arrow.

Seth turned his steed in the direction from which her cry had come and any tore through the beasts that dared come between him and his princess. The pounding of the blood in his temples was almost deafening and he found little relief when he finally caught a glimpse of her through the mayhem. Once again a group of enemies had sectioned her off from the rest of their troops, but, to his horror, he realized that this time there were three gwyllgi and Eirika had been struggling alone against them. Two lay dead but the third, though badly wounded, two of its three heads drooping limply like broken limbs, had taken her to the ground. Her sword, dulled with the creatures' rusty blood, lay on the grass out of reach. Seth arrived in time to watch the third beast leap towards her, knocking her flat against the earth while she tried to fend it off with only a dagger in hand. She jabbed the dagger into its side but it only snarled and its jaw plunged towards her throat. She managed to get her left arm up in time to block the blow, ramming her forearm into the creature's maw. She screamed as its jaws clamped down on her forearm.

"Eirika!"

But even as he was leaping out of the saddle, she managed to use her good arm to jab her dagger up into the gwyllgi's exposed throat. Its teeth still buried in her flesh, it gurgled a final breath and slumped forward, collapsing on top of her just as Seth reached her side.

His pulse thrummed in his temples so that he felt his skull might burst. She was so pale and the blood that splashed her armour was as bright as her tunic. "Princess," he managed, his voice hoarse as he reached towards her.

She opened eyes glazed with pain to look at him. "Seth?"

"I'll get you to the healers' tent, my lady," he assured her, "but I must free your arm."

She glanced down to where the slain gwyllgi's jaws were still clamped on her forearm, and what colour remained in her face drained away, but she nodded. He tore a swath of material from his surcoat; though the wound only oozed now, once he freed her arm it would bleed copiously.

"I'm sorry, my lady," he said and then grabbed hold of the gwyllgi's jaws and pried them open. She cried out as its fangs slid out of her flesh.

Seth heaved the gwyllgi's corpse away and immediately wrapped the torn strip of his surcoat around her mangled arm, trying to staunch the flow of blood that gushed from the wounds. It was more than just punctures from a simple bite. The beast had clamped down on the limb with the full force of its powerful jaws and Seth grimaced as he caught sight of splintered bone. He removed his belt and tied it around her upper arm. A half-stifled cry escaped her as he yanked it as tightly as he could and tied it off like a makeshift tourniquet. "I'm sorry," he whispered again. "I'm sorry."

Without further delay, her lifted her into his arms. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, her skin, pale and clammy. "Stay awake," he said as firmly as he could but his voice quavered. His knees had turned to water.

"It hurts," she breathed, burying her face against his chest.

"I know," he whispered. "It won't be for long. I promise you."

As he lifted her onto his horse he knew she was biting her lip to keep from crying out again. She managed to stay upright long enough for him to swing himself up into the saddle behind her, but it seemed to use up the last of her strength for she slumped back against him then and was still. He jabbed his heels into his horse's side mercilessly as he tore over the battlefield, heedless of the state of the battle, of how many of the woods' infernal brood remained alive, focussed solely on reaching his destination.

Though it was a distance of only a few furlongs to the healers' pavilion, it seemed the longest ride of all his life, longer even than the night they'd fled Renais together, when it had been his own blood staining his armour as they rode into the darkness.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"I need aid!" Seth called as he carried Eirika to the healers' tent. Her head lolled to the side and her pallor terrified him. Blood had soaked through the cloth binding her arm and into his tunic so that he could feel its sticky warmth against his skin.

Natasha appeared, staff in hand. Her eyes widened as she saw them but there was no hesitation as she spoke. "Set her down here," she said indicating a treatment slab. Eirika moaned as he lay her down, her face a mask of pain. "Bring me the disinfectant," she ordered one of the apprentice healers before turning her attention back to her patient. Eirika's eyes snapped open as Natasha began unwinding the cloth that bandaged the wound and she paused. "This will hurt for a moment, princess, but then I'll be able to treat you."

Eirika managed a nod, but she was biting through her lip as Natasha peeled away the blood-soaked cloth. Seth, aching with helplessness, found himself clasping Eirika's hand. "All will be well," he whispered, as she gripped his hand with such force that he almost thought he could hear his bones creak in protest. Her eyes, wide and glassy, fixed on him as if he could somehow banish the pain. But all he could do was stroke her face and assure her that she would fine.

By the time the apprentice had returned with a bottle of emerald coloured fluid, Natasha had managed to unwind the torn cloth. Seth could not miss the way her lips thinned to a line as she peered down at the wound. "The wound is deep, more than my staff can heal in one treatment. I'm going to apply a disinfectant. You'll feel a sharp burning sensation."

Again Eirika nodded and Natasha poured the green salve liberally over the open wound. This time Eirika could not hold back a cry. Able only to watch as her features contorted with pain, Seth wanted to die. This was his fault, his entirely. She murmured his name and looked to him again and his helplessness wrenched at him.

"That's the worst of it," Natasha said gently. And then, finally, she raised her staff. A soft glow pulsed from the staff and Seth could actually see the flesh of Eirika's arm beginning to knit together. And though it did not heal completely, the flow of blood slowed to a crawl. Only when he looked to Natasha and received a firm nod and an encouraging smile did relief sweep over him. He was no fool; he knew that without a healer close at hand such a wound could easily have been fatal.

Eirika's breathing steadied with the touch of the staff and though she remained very pale, the lines of her face had relaxed as the pain had begun to ebb away. Seth stayed with her, clasping her hand all the while, as Natasha removed his belt looped around Eirika's arm and proceeded to properly bandage the wound with a splint. Seth was thankful that this had been done before Ephraim could burst into the healers' pavilion. At Natasha's suggestion, he carried Eirika to the far wing of the healers' pavilion where they would be out of the way and she could rest.

By then, the injured from the battle had begun being brought in and Natasha left to treat them. He glimpsed L'Arachel and Moulder bustling about as well. The healers' pavilion was essentially made up of three large tents strung together, the outer ward being used for triage, the middle one for treatment, and the furthest back as a place for patients to rest. Looking through the long segments of the tent towards the entrance, Seth could see the casualties coming in. Soldiers were carried in on stretchers or aided, limping, as he watched, unable to bring himself to leave Eirika's side. They were suffering just as she had, and many of them did every day. His warning about the coming attack had helped to reduce casualties, certainly, but they could not be avoided entirely. They spilled their blood day in and day out... and there was nothing he could do to stop all this suffering.

"Where is my sister?" Ephraim demanded as he marched into the healers' tent. One of the apprentice healers pointed to the corner where Seth remained by Eirika's side. Bile rose in Seth's throat as the future King of Renais strode towards them.

"How is she?" Ephraim asked immediately, but one look at Seth told him all he needed to know. He stared at Seth, looking shaken, and Seth realized that his hands and clothes were covered in blood. Hers.

"She's sleeping, my lord," he said as he rose to his feet and offered a low bow.

"I was told that you'd been seen carrying her here. What happened?"

He steeled himself to deliver his report. "Gwyllgis, three of them. She somehow became separated from the rest of our forces and she fought them off alone. Her arm was badly mauled, the bones crushed." Ephraim's eyes lingered on his sister's sleeping form as Seth spoke. "She'll be all right. She'll require several more treatments before her arm is fully healed, however."

"I see," Ephraim said quietly. "Thank you, Seth."

Ephraim's words were like salt in a wound. "It was my fault, lord Ephraim. I was late. I should have been with her, but I–"

"Enough, Seth," Ephraim said– quietly but with a firmness that ceased all protest. "You couldn't have known." Seth did not speak then for he could not tell Ephraim how wrong he was. "You should go get some rest."

"But, my lord–"

Ephraim raised a hand. "At least get yourself cleaned up."

Seth nodded and bowed his head. As he turned to leave, casting a last, furtive glance in Eirika's direction, he saw her stir and open her eyes. Ephraim knelt by her side. "Brother," she said weakly.

"You gave me a scare," he said with a smile as he reached out and began stroking her face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Seth turned towards the exit but he paused before he'd taken more than a few steps as he heard Ephraim say, "I hear tell that a gallant knight saved you."

Clenching his fists, Seth strode out of the tent. Ephraim was wrong. Today he had failed her entirely. In a few hours' time, all this would be erased but the pain she suffered now, at this moment, was real... as real as the blood on his hands.

**ooo**

Though he was wearier that night than he had been since this ordeal had begun, Seth had no desire to rest. Instead, he procured a jug of water and returned to his tent where he stripped off his bloodied garments and scrubbed himself clean. The water was icy and gooseflesh rose on his skin in the cool air, but he scrubbed mercilessly until his skin felt raw. All the while, his vision was filled with the memory of Eirika's face contorted with agony. His sense of vague indifference from that afternoon seemed now like a weight carried about his neck.

It was late when he finally returned to the healers' tent. He came to an abrupt halt a few paces from the entrance when he glimpsed Ephraim in what seemed a rather heated discussion with Tana.

"Please be reasonable, Ephraim. You _need_ your rest for tomorrow."

Ephraim's arms were crossed over his chest, his back straight, shoulders squared. "There's no need for you to worry. I'm fine."

"Stop that! You don't need to be so formal as if we–"

"Pardon me," Seth said loudly as he stepped towards them.

Tana coloured and her evident abashment only made Seth all the more uncomfortable. "Oh. Sir Seth... Good evening."

Seth bowed. "Princess Tana. Lord Ephraim. How is Lady Eirika?"

"Much as you left her," Ephraim replied.

"My lord," Seth began, "you will be leading our forces tomorrow in battle. You need your rest. If you would allow me the honour, I will watch over Princess Eirika."

For a long moment, Ephraim peered at him and Seth could not help but be reminded of King Fado. The late king had had a way of looking at you so that you felt he could read your most secret thoughts.

Relief flooded through him as Ephraim finally nodded. "All right. You win, the both of you. I'll get some rest. But make sure she's all right, Seth, that she's comfortable. She's not like us, you know. She's never endured such a serious injury."

"Eirika will be all right," Tana assured Ephraim, reaching out tentatively to squeeze his arm. "She's stronger than you give her credit for."

Ephraim smiled at this and nodded. "You're right, of course." He sighed then and turned once more to Seth. "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight, my lord. Princess," he said, bowing.

He made his way through to the back area of the healers' tents where a dozen or so soldiers were resting soundly. Most of the wounded, once treated by the healers' staves, were well enough to be sent to their tents, but those with more grievous injuries remained under the healer's close watch. It pained him that Eirika should be one of these. The assistant healers, who guarded their patients like a mother bear would her cubs, normally chased out all visitors, but, recognizing him, they only told him that the princess was resting and that she ought not to be disturbed. When he insisted on staying they handed him something to give her in case she were to wake and then returned to their other duties.

It was dark where the injured rested, the only light coming from a small lantern by the entrance. As he sat by Eirika's side, her face was masked in shadow.

The night dragged on as he sat, silent, listening to the breathing of the injured men and women around him. Now and then a low moan would rise and occasionally one of the apprentice healers would stop in to check on a patient. He listened to their groans, looked on their bandaged limbs or head or face, and felt the weight of their suffering settle over him like a rain dampened cowl. It was he alone who could ease their pain... if anyone could.

It was late into the night, an hour or so before the day would come to an abrupt halt, when Eirika stirred. "Ephraim?" she murmured. She grimaced as she moved.

"Drink this," Seth said, holding out the tin cup the healers had left him with. "It will help with the pain."

She raised herself enough to take the cup and drink down the murky brew, grimacing yet again, though this time from the bitter taste, Seth was certain. He had had to down such concoctions before and recalled how little pleasant they usually were.

She set down the cup and, laying back, turned her head slightly to look in his direction. "Seth," she whispered. "You're here." She reached out in the darkness and what else could he do but clasp her hand in both of his?

"I'm here, my lady. Lord Ephraim was ordered to get his rest."

She chuckled. "Tana's doing, I imagine."

"Yes, milady."

A minute's silence followed before she spoke again. "How bad is it? I asked the healers but they just tell me I'll be fine and that I need to rest."

"You'll recover. With time and a few more treatments."

"I see. So I... I won't be able to fight tomorrow." It was impossible to ignore the quaver in her voice.

"Lady Eirika..." How could he tell her that there would be no tomorrow? "I'm sorry. I should have been there sooner. I–" Groping in the darkness, she managed to loose her hand from his and press her fingers over his lips.

"Seth..." The way she said his name sent a shiver down his spine. There was such fondness in her tone, such warmth, that even undeserving as he was, he could not help but take her hand once more and squeeze it all the more tightly. "If I commanded you to stop burdening yourself with guilt would it do any good?"

"My lady..."

"After the war... After everything is settled, I–" She bit back a cry as she shifted, disturbing her injured arm.

He stroked her face and made soothing sounds until her features relaxed. "It will be better in the morning, I promise you," he said, bringing her hand to his lips as he had never before dared.

"Seth..." Eirika whispered.

His eyes shot up towards the entrance as he thought he saw a silhouette there and glimpsed a flutter of white robes.

"You should rest," he said gently, laying down Eirika's hand.

"So should you. Right now, I mean. I won't be there with you tomorrow," she said quietly, "so I want to know that you'll be ready."

He nodded. "Rest well, my lady," he said as he rose.

"And you, Seth."

And he would indeed have gone to get some sleep had he not known that less than an hour remained before the day began again in its seemingly inalterable loop.

When he left the darkened area where the patients slept, he was little surprised to find Natasha waiting there. He'd thought it might have been her.

"Sister Natasha," he greeted her with a nod. "Is it not late for you to be doing the rounds?"

She nodded. "Yes. Only... I couldn't sleep. Knowing how many will be injured in tomorrow's battle..." She paused then, her eyes avoiding his face. "General Seth, I must apologise. I had only meant to check on our patients. I didn't intend to eavesdrop, much less on a... personal moment." He cringed inwardly as he thought of how things must have looked to an observer. He had taken liberties with the princess that no simple retainer ought to have dared take. And she had let him.

He ought to protest, to deny that there had been anything personal, only a retainer trying to comfort his injured liege. But it would be a bald-faced lie and he could not summon the energy when he knew that soon all of this would be forgotten.

"You care deeply for Princess Eirika, don't you?"

"I..." Seth cleared his throat. "She is my liege, and I, only a knight. I've sworn sacred oaths..."

A faint smiled played on Natasha's lips as she spoke, though her gaze was distant. "I've discovered that some oaths are worth breaking."

"Pardon?"

"Oh. I–" She looked up at him. For a moment she appeared uncertain, but then a smile appeared on her face. "A secret for a secret, general," she said and, before he could ask what she meant, she reached into her robes and pulled out a gold chain that was strung around her neck. Dangling on the chain was a heavy ring encrusted with a large ruby. He had seen that ring before on the finger of a certain roguish prince.

"That ring... It belongs to Prince Joshua, does it not?" She nodded. "I'd noticed he was no longer wearing it but I thought he'd lost it in a bet perhaps."

Natasha smiled. "Actually he lost it by winning a bet." Seth quirked an eyebrow. She shook her head. "Never mind."

"So," Seth began, brow crinkled, "you and Prince Joshua plan to marry?"

Natasha nodded. "After the war, yes. I had meant to return home and serve my people in Grado, and I still intend to aid them if the great catastrophe strikes, but I wish to do so by Joshua's side. If any good, any happiness can come out of this terrible war then I've decided to embrace it. And I would wager my happiness on him."

"I... see. I wish you both the utmost happiness."

"Thank you, general. And I hope the same for you."

He resisted the urge to glanced over his shoulder, back to where the patients lay, to where Eirika rested, injured because of his laxity. "Might I ask you your thoughts on a peculiar matter?" he said without quite looking at Natasha.

"Yes, of course, general."

"I heard a tale today– a man, punished by the gods to relive the same day over and over, a day filled with strife, with none of his friends or comrades having any memory of events once the day began again. What would such a man have to live for, do you think?"

Her eyebrows arched but she said nothing for a minute or so as she mulled over his question. "I suppose he would have to do his utmost to atone for his crime with the hope of someday freeing himself," she said finally. "I've not heard this tale. What crime did this man's commit to earn such a punishment, if I may ask?"

Seth sighed. "I'm not certain. Overreaching perhaps." And this time he did glance over his shoulder. "I won't trouble you any longer," he said as he turned back. "Goodnight."

"General Seth," she said as he moved towards the exit. He stopped but did not turn to look at her. "If I might offer you a word of advice... I believe the Everlasting smiles upon the love shared by Its creations. And I think sometimes it is we and not the gods who make the chains that bind us."

For a moment he remained still. He would not allow himself to believe that the gods had anything to do with his predicament for surely they would not punish Eirika in this manner. She was innocent. It was he who... But perhaps it all came to the same thing for here he was regardless of the cause. "Goodnight, Sister Natasha," he said once again and then marched out of the healers' tent.

With the remaining minutes of the day he took a lantern and made his way to the glade where Garcia and Dozla had attempted sorcery that evening. However, the staff they'd been using was nowhere to be seen.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"Hello there, general! You're looking w– No actually you look terrible," Forde said, peering at him. "Is there something wrong, general?"

"No, Forde. I'm... fine." Seth barely managed to restrain himself from heaving a sigh. They asked him that day in and day out, and always he lied to their faces.

"Well in that case we'd better head on to the briefing. Wouldn't do to be late, would it?" They rarely pressed him, save Eirika who was forever worried for him, forever asking him if he was well, asking what troubled him. For this very reason, he tried to keep his distance save in the late evening before the battle when he insisted on being close to her no matter the circumstances... for every time, the gwyllgis came in twos or threes.

He greeted Kyle automatically as he entered the pavilion and gave his reply about the woods (he'd since shortened it) when asked. After that he stood through the briefing while he wracked his brain for something he might have missed. He had searched everywhere for the staff, asked all over camp for it. He had spent a solid two weeks of nights describing it to every soldier in their army, asking if anyone had seen it. None had. At least as far as he could get a reply. It had been difficult to speak to some of their younger female recruits who had stared at him with open admiration and become flushed and badly flustered when he had tried to speak to them.

"General, could you give us your thoughts on this matter?"

As he so often did, he gave his advice, and, as always, they settled on the same battle plan they had on the first day.

He had tried stealing the staff after Lute left the pavilion. He'd snapped it in half one time, burned it another, and had Knoll destroy it with magic on one occasion, all to no effect. He'd have considered it a false trail if only he could have located it after Dozla and Garcia's training session. When asked, they'd explained that when they'd heard the sounds of battle they had dropped the staff on the ground and gone running, weapons drawn. The notion that it could simply vanish troubled him immensely.

"I think we can adjourn," Ephraim announced. With a sigh, Seth strode out of the pavilion without a word to his companions. But once there, he knew not where to go. He had run out of ideas. There were no more avenues of investigation to pursue, only a dead end– or worse, an endless circle without escape. He'd have crawled into his tent and slept away the days were Eirika's life not at stake every time the day began once more. Her safety was the burden he had to bear, the stone he had to roll up the hill, only to watch it roll down to the bottom every time.

The soldiers came and went outside the war pavilion. In a fit of boredom, he had amused himself a few times by placing bets with Joshua that he could predict their actions. "And that one," Seth had said, pointing to a man leading a grey mare, "will stop to adjust his boot– his _left_ boot." And so he did, only a moment later.

"All right. A silver if you can tell me what that one will do," Joshua had said, pointing to a woman with a quiver at her side.

"She'll stop and talk to a fellow with a faded green cloak." And as he said it, the young man in the cloak appeared and the two began to chat.

Joshua peered at him, incredulity obvious on his features. "If I didn't know your reputation, general, I'd think this was fixed. Or have you developed the gift of foresight?"

"Hindsight perhaps," Seth murmured.

"What was that?"

"Never mind."

"One more then," Joshua said. "Something you can't have fixed. A coin toss."

Seth nodded. "As you wish. Tails."

Joshua flipped the coin. It glinted in the evening light as it spun momentarily through the air and then landed safely in Joshua's palm. He opened his hand and... tails. "One more time," he said.

"Heads," Seth replied. He had gotten the second toss wrong the first time, much to Joshua's delight. After that it had been simple.

"Heads," Joshua muttered. "Well I'll be... Once more."

"My lord," Seth had said with a bow, "I'm afraid I must leave you... before Princess L'Arachel can berate us for indulging in an immoral, inexcusable pastime."

"Hey wait–"

"Joshua! I see you continue in your base practice." He had not enjoyed being on the receiving end of _that_ lecture the first time around, though it had amused him to no end to watch her subsequently beat Joshua at his own game. L'Arachel luck had indeed been quite frightening, all the more so for that fact that, unlike himself, she was not using a trick– at least none that he was aware of.

And he was aware of most things now. As his comrades filed out of the war tent, he sighed as he remembered those brief instants of surprise, the moments that had pierced his shroud of ennui.

He set off at a fast walk before Eirika could hail him. It was best that he avoid her. Her closeness was too much to bear sometimes and his words, so oft repeated, felt false on his lips. He could manage it with the others, but with her, the rehearsed lines were like sand on his tongue.

Company would have been more than welcome, a companion in this ordeal, someone to talk to openly, one who would surprise him every day. He had never realized how important novelty was, nor companionship. It was painful to walk the rows of tents at night and hear the sounds, drifting from some of these, that left him aching and frustrated. Some members of their troop were reliving a pleasant day indeed. He'd have given anything for their bliss-steeped ignorance. Eirika and he had only pain and struggle and awkwardness to greet them every evening.

As the sun dipped low on the horizon Seth sounded the alarm and had their camp prepare for battle. He opted to stay on foot; thus far he'd had the most ease protecting Eirika when they were booth afoot. As they stood at the ready on the western edge of camp, his eyes drifted to the dying trees ahead. Their ochre leaves were aflame in the dusky light and their branches writhed in the breeze.

"Seth, I was thinking perhaps I should check on our second unit."

Heaving a sigh, he closed his eyes for a moment. He could not afford to let her out of his sight, not after having seen the consequences of failure. "I'll accompany you if you wish, princess, but please, stay close to me."

"Seth, is there something–" The three-toned howl of a gwyllgi signalled the beginning of the attack.

The fighting was as furious as it had even been. Adrenalin pumped through the combatants' veins as they struggled– they believe anyway– for their lives. But Seth hacked at their foes with icy calm, knowing neither fear, nor excitement, nor battle fury. The only time fear ever thrilled through him was when he lost sight of Eirika for a moment, particularly in those minutes before the inevitable appearance of the of gwyllgis that seemed so bent on attacking her. They came at an odd angle from the woods, as if they were not part of the main attack force. But he had grown used to them now, their attacks a familiar, if sometimes unpredictable, dance.

Today he kept perfect pace with Eirika. Together they skewered a bael, hacking its limbs out from under it in record time. When a gargoyle swooped low they both ducked and arced their blades upwards at the same moment, connecting lightly but enough to throw the creature off balance and send it tumbling out of the air.

When the gwyllgis rushed towards them, they rolled away from the lead creature's scalding breath and leapt to their feet, she to the right, he to the left. The creature's outer heads looked in either direction and it froze in indecision as they both raced towards it, their blades alternately piercing the beast's side and slicing open one of its exposed necks.

They spun to face the other two gwyllgi. Seth darted to the right this time, she to the left, so they faced their foes one on one. He knew enough not to worry about her facing one beast; he had seen her take down two easily enough. It was only three that had managed to overwhelm her in the past... such as it was.

A few thrusts and parries and it was over– at least as far as Seth was concerned. She would be safe now. And yet, though what battle thrill remained in him ebbed away as the true danger passed once again, he remained fascinated by the synergy between them today. He had never before felt its like. As the second wave of demon spawned creatures came at them, it seemed as much as if she were matching his movements as the reverse.

The battle became like a dance in which they each in turn took the lead. Monsters fell before the joint force of their swords, and though they both grew breathless with exertion, neither slackened the pace, thrusting and retreating until, with a jolt of exaltation that thrilled through his veins as never before, making him feel more alive than he had since that first day, the final foe was slain on their blades and, all at once, it was over. Panting for breath, he looked away from the stillness of the battlefield to his princess. How dazzling she was in the last rays of sunlight even as her chest heaved for breath and her cheeks remained flushed.

But it was over now.

For a moment she'd reminded him of what it was to be alive once more, to feel connected to another person, and the sudden loss of that ripped through him like a frothy breaker on a crumbling shoreline. He felt all his joy, all his hope wash away like a retreating wave. His armour had become too heavy to bear and every breath required an effort as if he had been pulled under the surface of the sea and was trying to breath its turbid waters.

Without a word, Seth turned on his heel and marched towards camp. His purpose had come to an end for now. He would rest. He would go to sleep. In the morning– evening– it would be easier again. He would settle back into that soul-snuffing ennui where he would be blanketed from this sudden despair.

In the gathering darkness he let his sword fall to the earth. Why bother to clean it when it would be restored shortly? He tore at the straps of his breast plate as he made his way to his tent. When he reached it, he ducked inside and threw off his armour, tossing it into the corner. Once, such behaviour would have horrified him, but now...

Seth sank down to the floor of his tent. He rested his arms on his knees and then bowed his head onto them and remained that way as what light still crept through his tent flap died away completely and left him in darkness.

That was the state in which Eirika found him.

"Seth?" He did not stir at the sound of her voice outside his tent. If he remained silent surely she would go away as she had before. To his dishonour he had, on past days, pretended to be asleep in order to avoid her.

"Seth, are you all right?" He heard a rustling as she pulled back the tent flap, but he could not bring himself to look up or to once again speak the lie that he was fine. "Seth, what's wrong?" she said urgently, approaching him. It was with a dull sort of surprise that he registered that she'd entered his tent. She had never done so before; it would be considered highly improper and gossip began so easily in a camp such as this one.

He raised his head to look at her and, in what little light there was, saw the distress on her features. His eyes then wandered to the blade clasped in her hand– his blade. "You dropped your sword. Seth," she said, squatting down on the ground across from him, "that isn't like you. Are you hurt?"

"No, my lady," he managed, though his voice was oddly hoarse. He had reached his end. He could not endure this any more. He would go mad, he was certain of it. To have life once again for an instant and then to have it snatched away to be replaced by this mockery of it... it was too much to bear. But he had to protect her, he could not leave her to...

He shuddered and looked away once again.

"Seth," she said, a quaver in her voice now, "you're frightening me. Tell me what's wrong."

"You'll think me mad."

"Tell me anyway," she whispered as she settled herself on the floor before him.

"It's... difficult to explain."

"Then take your time," she said and reached for a nearby lantern. She lit it and the tent was bathed in a gentle glow. After that she poured some water into his washbasin and passed him a dampened washcloth to clean the gore from the battle off his face.

He took the cloth and scrubbed absently as she reached for another and did the same. This had never happened before and all at once he found himself at loss for words. She was more dishevelled than ever; she must have gone looking for him right after the battle's end. He could not lie to her, not tonight as he remembered that moment of perfect connection between them, even if it had been only in his own mind.

"My lady," he began finally, "I am trapped in a prison, one made neither of stone nor of iron bars, but of time itself."

Her brow was crinkled. "I don't understand."

"This evening– some eleven hours to be precise– has been repeating itself over and over and I remain the only one with any memory of it."

His reply left her speechless and the way she stared at him made him feel certain that she believed he'd lost his senses. And he could hardly blame her.

"Pull back the tent flap," he said.

She peered at him quizzically but did as he asked. Lantern light illuminated the aisle in front of his tent's entrance and he watched the passing faces until he found a point of reference. After a minute or so he spoke. "In a few moments Cormag will walk by. He'll stop as his wyvern sneezes on him and he'll tell the wyvern, Genarog, what a great dirty brute he is."

"Wha–"

But at that very moment, Cormag appeared, leading his wyvern. Eirika stared, jaw agape, as the wyvern suddenly sneezed, droplets shining in the light as they whizzed through the air and spattered Cormag. "Genarog!" he said, spinning to face his mount. "Have some manners, you great dirty brute." The wyvern huffed at Cormag who rolled his eyes and went on his way.

The tent flap fell from Eirika's hands as she turned to stare at Seth. "How did you know that? You couldn't have..."

"In another minute you'll hear the whinny of a pegasus from behind us."

They sat in utter silence while the sounds of footfalls and the chatter of camp drifted around them. Eirika started as she heard the high pitch neigh of a pegasus just as he had said.

"Do you believe me, princess?" he asked dully.

"I... I don't know what to think. Tell me what happened. Start at the beginning."

And so he told her of how they'd been attacked that first day and then how suddenly it had all begun again, and again, and again, how he was the only one to have any awareness of events. He told her about the gwyllgis and the staff that went missing every night, and how nothing he did seemed to have any effect.

The lantern had dimmed to almost nothing as he'd told his tale, and neither paused to relight it. "It begins again every day," he told her. "I don't even know how long it's been now. The suns sets every night and it never rises."

"You said that the first day you were struck by a gwyllgi's fire. And then?"

"And then nothing. I've been trapped in this purgatory ever since." He hung his head again. "Every day I save you, my lady, and every day you're in danger once again. And no matter what I do or how many times I try, nothing changes."

"Seth," she breathed, and the tenderness and pity in her voice cut through him like a sharpened blade. Head bent on his knees, he was surprised when he felt her fingers stroking his hair. She had slid closer to him, and, as he glanced up to look at her, her fingers moved to trail down his cheek. His arm shot up to capture that wandering hand, but her eyes had locked with his and he could not look away even as she leaned into him.

Her lips brushed over his and he froze.

This should not be happening. She was the princess. All this time he had striven to keep himself under rigid control. To have her here with him, in the darkness of his tent, kissing him– He should not– could not allow himself to–

It was her hesitation that broke his stupor, a hesitation born, he realized, not of indecision, but inexperience. She was the princess: She had never kissed a man, not like this. Realizing that, aware of this tremulous innocence that she would spend on him, he could not but hold her face in his hands and press his lips to hers, kissing her hungrily as he had in heated dreams and guilty imaginings, his beautiful, darling Eirika.

They parted for breath, foreheads leaning against one another. He squeezed his eyes shut. His heart was pounding, his nerves tingling wherever she touched him, and shame raced through his veins at how her closeness made him ache for her.

"Eirika," he managed, his voice hoarse.

"I'm so sorry, Seth," she whispered, embracing him and burying her face in the crook of his neck. It took his desire-fogged mind a moment to realize that she was sorry for his predicament and not the kiss.

Gingerly, he put his arms around her and stroked her hair. That seemed safe enough...

She murmured his name and he shivered as her lips brushed over his skin. "You should go," he whispered. "I'll be all right. I–"

"No." He tried to order his thoughts enough to find some way of explaining in delicate terms why she had to leave– _now_– but she stopped his lips with her own before he got so much as a word out.

She drew back, brushing wayward locks of hair out of her face to reveal wonderfully scarlet cheeks. "Seth..." she began hesitantly. "If there really is nothing else, if there's no tomorrow and this– if this is all we have..." And so there could be no doubt as to her meaning, as she leaned in to kiss him once again, her fingers began fumbling with the lacings of his shirt.

He broke away, snagging her trembling hands in his and looked into her flushed face. "Eirika, _I_ will remember. And to have that kind of advantage over you would be–"

She slipped her hands out of his and pressed her fingers to his lips. "I'd forgive you even that."

He reached out to cup her face. She was so beautiful. It was difficult to think with her this close and it would be so easy to just...

He leaned in to kiss her once more but jerked back as a niggling doubt pierced his hazy thoughts. "What if I'm wrong?" he said urgently, clasping her by the shoulders. "What if this is all some madness on my part and the sun rises tomorrow after all?"

She smiled fondly and trailed her fingers down his cheek. "Then I'll wake with a smile."

And then he could resist no longer.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

In the darkness of his tent, hand draped over her waist, fingers glancing over the firm skin of her belly, Seth could feel the steady rhythm of Eirika's breathing as they lay together beneath his blankets. Her skin, pressed against his chest, was delightfully smooth, and pale even in the darkness. He titled his head to brush a kiss over her shoulder. She was so beautiful... But gods! If he hadn't sinned before, he certainly had now.

He only realized she was awake when she shifted, turning over to face him and curl up against his chest, head tucked under his chin. "Do you really know everything that goes on at camp?" she murmured.

"Not _everything_. I've tried to leave people their secrets... when I can."

"Tell me," she whispered.

"Mmm?"

"Tell me something I didn't know. It won't matter tomorrow, anyway," she said, embracing him fiercely.

"Eirika..." He stroked her hair and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

"We still have some time, don't we?"

"A few hours at least," he replied.

"Then talk to me."

He paused to mull things over for a moment. After all this time he had amassed a jumble of useless information about his comrades and their activities. "Prince Joshua intends to wed Natasha when the war is at an end," he told her finally.

She raised her head to look at him as he said this and the surprise on her features made him chuckle. "Truly? He's in earnest? I'd noticed some flirtation on his part, but..."

"He is in earnest, so far as I know. He's given her his ring as his pledge."

"I thought the clerics of her order weren't allowed to marry."

"They aren't."

She smiled, one eyebrow raised. "I see." And then, her lips trailing over the line of his jaw, "Forbidden love. How romantic."

Her closeness was becoming distracting, and to keep himself from dwelling on other ways to pass a few hours, he continued to confess secrets that, in truth, were hardly his to share. "Lute has been shadowing Knoll. She's convinced that because he's a dark mage, he must be 'sneaky'. Knoll seems simply puzzled by her."

"Aren't we all?" Eirika quipped.

"And Kyle is courting Commander Syrene."

"Is he?" Eirika considered this a moment. "How will they manage it? I can't see either of them leaving their commands."

"Perhaps, but... right now I think everyone's thoughts are too focussed on ending the war to consider much beyond that. Everyone is worried about what will happen tomorrow." A mirthless laugh tumbled from his lips.

"Seth..."

"I would do anything to feel the morning sun on my face just once more."

Eirika's arms tightened around him once again. "I wish I could do something..."

"I know."

She stroked his hair and the look on her face and the caress of her hands made even the heaviness of his predicament ebb away. He smiled at her. "So... what else?" she asked.

"Apparently I have admirers among the rank and file," he offered.

"Female ones?" she said with an arched eyebrow.

"Well yes."

"Ah. I'm not surprised," she said, curling in closer to him and pressing kisses against his neck and collar bone, drawing a groan from him. "And you're too much of a gentleman to take advantage of it."

"But not too much of one to avoid taking advantage of _you_, it seems," he said gravely.

She rolled back a bit so she could meet his eyes in the darkness. "Seth," she said, looking suddenly abashed, "I think it might have been the other way around. I suppose," she went on, glancing away now, "that you think the less of me for–"

"Never." He held her face in his hands and stared into her eyes in the dimness. "I could never."

She blinked away tears. "I was afraid you saw me only as the princess. I think maybe I... tumbled off my throne tonight."

He wrapped her in his arms, pressing her as close as he could. "I love you, Eirika. I love you," he repeated with all the fervency he had restrained for so long. "And it's I who's fallen. I can't imagine that all this is anything other than some form of penance."

The muffled laugh against his chest startled him. "Very fine _penance_ indeed," she murmured.

"I had meant–"

"I know what you meant," she cut in, smiling fondly at him. "But why should what we feel be any more a crime than Joshua and Natasha's alliance?"

"I'm a knight..."

"And she is a _cleric_," Eirika retorted. "I don't believe you ever took any vows not to marry. I've not seen the gods strike _them_ down. There must be more to this. I'm certain of it."

"But, Eirika, I'm a knight and your retainer. I ought never to have–"

"Seth, listen to me," she said very firmly. "I don't expect you to be perfect. The Silver Knight may be perfect, but he's what everyone else sees. I see past that. I know you, Seth."

Heaving a sigh, Seth reached out to stroke the length of her hair. "You deserve more than a roll in the blankets in a war tent. You deserve a proper marriage bed."

"In that case," she said, her lips quirked, "you should hurry and fix this mess so that you can court me and we can be married after the war."

"After the war..." he murmured. He had heard that phrase on her lips so many times now. "You've tried to tell me something when we speak this day but every time, we've been interrupted. You keep beginning by saying 'after the war...'"

For a moment she was silent and he began to wonder if she'd drifted to sleep. "You said you know most of what happens at camp," she began finally.

"Most, but not everything."

"Do you know what I did after the briefing today?"

"Most days," he replied, "you hold private conference with Lord Ephraim."

"Do you know what we talked about?"

He shook his head. "No. I would not stoop to eavesdropping on my liege, even now."

"I think you should."

"Wha–"

She pressed her fingers against his lips. "I think you might understand then. I give you my leave to spy on us."

"My lady–"

"Seth."

"Yes?"

"Did you just call me 'my lady'?"

He cleared his throat. "Well..."

"Don't you think that might be just a tad formal... considering the circumstances?" she said with a quirked eyebrow as her glance slid downwards a moment over their naked bodies.

He could not help but laugh at this. "Perhaps a little, my darling."

"Better," she said, nuzzling against him. For a few minutes they remained pressed close together and he basked in the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin. When Eirika did speak once more, her tone was grave. "There's something I need to know."

"Hmm?"

"You said that the first day, the gwyllgi singed you and then you lost consciousness."

"No... not precisely."

"Seth?"

"The burn was... I think... I think I was dead." She went rigid and her arms clenched spasmodically around him.

She drew in several deep breaths before she spoke once more. "Has anyone else... died... on this day?"

"No. The battle always has wounded, but with our healers' aid none of the injuries have yet proved fatal."

"Then maybe that's why you're different. That first day, if you were... dead," she managed, her voice faltering on the word, "then perhaps whatever dark magic is causing this didn't fully affect you. And I'm certain it has to be magic. We're near the resting place of the Demon King and Riev is out there and the Dark Stone as well. And that staff that vanishes... It can't all be a coincidence. It must tie together somehow."

He sighed. "I've tried all I can think of. I've raced back to the clearing the moment after I've secured your safety– I've fled in the midst of battle to do so– but even so I've never discovered what becomes of the accursed staff."

"Then maybe you need to... just let it happen," she whispered.

He glanced down at her, distressed by what he thought she might be saying. "Eirika, surely you can't mean..."

"Listen to me, Seth. You said the day goes on for some six hours after the gwyllgis come. You know everything going on in camp at every moment before and after, but because you've been saving me, that one moment remains veiled. You don't really know what's happening then. But if..." Her voice grew tremulous as she went on. "If you stand by and watch what happens instead and just leave me to–"

"Eirika!" He held her by the shoulders, feeling ill at the very thought of what she was saying. The memory of her wounds that one time, of her blood on his hands and her cries of pain, flashed before his mind's eye. "I can't let you– And what if I did and the day didn't begin again? What if you remained..."

She reached out to touch his face, her eyes locked with his in the dimness. "Don't you know I would give my life for you just as readily as you would for me?"

"You're the princess of Renais," he protested.

"Yes," she stated. "I'm the princess of Renais. But even so, I love you, Seth."

He cradled her against him. If he could just stop time completely and remain like this, he would ask for no more. "A life without you in it," he whispered hoarsely, "would be worse torment than this existence."

"There's everyone else to consider," she said, though he could feel her trembling against him. "You can't leave us all like this forever. Just once," she breathed. "Once is all it would take and then you would know. You said you would do anything to see the sun rise again..."

"Not this."

"Please, Seth. You've risked your life so many times to protect me. Just this once, let me do the same for you."

"Eirika, please don't ask this of me."

"You said you've tried everything else. Just once. Please, Seth, promise me."

He could not look at her, but finally he nodded.

She kissed him then, hard. Her hands were bolder now and what else could he do but make love to her until his worries washed away in the sweetness of her body. The way she called his name, the way she murmured that she loved him, it was more than he could have hoped for.

When they lay still in the darkness, their pulses slowing even as they clung together, Seth tried to resist the comfortable lethargy that settled over him and beckoned him to shut his eyes and drift to sleep. Eirika's fingers trailed over his cheek. "Go to sleep," she said and kissed his lips. "When you wake this will all be like a beautiful dream."

He wanted to protest, but a luxuriant weariness washed over him and he drifted into dreaming.

**ooo**

"Maybe archery just isn't our thing. We should try something else." Dozla's bass rumble was unmistakable.

As the sounds of camp battered his senses, Seth closed his eyes, shutting out the familiar scene, and inhaled deeply of the evening air. The scent of her skin seemed to cling to him even now, and he thought he could taste her lips still on his. Her voice, whispering his name in the darkness, flitted through his thoughts like distant wind chimes.

"Hello there, general!" Seth opened his eyes as Forde hailed him. "You're looking well this evening. In fact," he continued, brow crinkled. "You're looking very well." He cocked his head and peered at Seth for a moment. "Did you get laid?"

Seth spun on his heel and turned towards the pavilion. "Come. Let's not be late for the briefing."

"Hey! Wait a minute!"


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_Just this once, let me do the same for you._ If only it were that easy. Keeping to the slanting evening shadows, Seth watched her enter the pavilion for the briefing. As always, Eirika looked travel-worn and the skin on her face was weathered from their time in Jehanna. His chest constricted as he thought once more of the softness of the skin concealed by her garments, the places never touched by the scorching sun of the desert, nor by any man... save him.

The graveness of her features made him want to reach out to her. But the gulf between them was now as wide as ever and he remained at a distance. He had only wanted to catch a glimpse of her.

He had promised her he would stand by and watch– just once– but he had not said he would do so immediately and, instead, he'd searched desperately for some other way to learn what he needed to know– with little success.

He shrank away as Kyle ducked out of the pavilion to speak to one of the soldiers on guard. "Have you seen General Seth?"

"No, Sir Kyle."

"Have someone look for him. We're starting the briefing and Prince Ephraim requires his presence."

"Yes Sir!"

But Seth knew he would not be found. It would be a simple thing to avoid them. He had done so before.

Since their night together he had only once attended briefing– the first day after. Since then, he had made a point of avoiding Eirika more diligently than ever, for the thoughts that tumbled through his mind whenever he was near her now were unbearable. To have had everything he wanted for a moment, for just a moment, and then have it all snatched away... She had said she loved him and she must love him still, but here, now, they were like strangers.

The briefing was like a scene in a play that he's learned by heart: He could remember every gesture, every line, their inflections, their expressions. Even though he could not hear them as he waited at a distance, Seth could play the scene through in his thoughts. He could remember perfectly the slight tremor in Eirika's voice when she asked about tomorrow and facing the Demon King.

The first time, he had dismissed her hesitation as simple nerves, but he knew better now. She had sounded much the same that night when she had spoken of his apparent death. And he realized finally, it was not the Demon King she feared facing but Lyon, her dear and once gentle friend. He had known she was troubled by the notion of facing Lyon, but when he dwelled on it, the thought that she might have to slay him with her own blade... The horror of it seemed more real to him now, for if he kept his promise he might as well be doing the same thing.

But she was right; he could not leave them all like this, on the cusp of battle forever. But even so, there must be a way... There had to be–

"Sir Seth! There you are." Damn it. He'd become distracted and let one of the soldiers notice him. "You're wanted for the briefing."

Seth cleared his throat. "I was just on my way."

All discussion stopped as he entered the war pavilion. "Seth, where have you been?" Ephraim said. "We had to start without you."

Seth bowed low. "My apologies, Lord Ephraim. I... lost track of time."

Ephraim's raised eyebrows spoke volumes to anyone who knew him well, but the prince said nothing and Seth took up a spot behind Eirika where he could at least look at her a while. Even though he'd missed half the briefing, the war plans seemed to take forever and he had no desire to speed things up as he once had. He had already made his decision, though he dreaded it. If Eirika could face Lyon then he could do this terrible this as well.

"In that case I think we can adjourn." The moment Ephraim spoke the words Seth strode out of the pavilion before Eirika could call after him and ask him to spar with her as she did whenever he lingered. He had bared his heart and his body to her; he had nothing left to give. He could not start it all over again and pretend it was the first time. It had to end, one way or the other. But one thing remained before that.

"Sir Seth," Joshua called out to him. "Care for a friendly wager?"

Seth bowed. "No thank you, my lord."

"Lady luck not with you today?" he inquired with a beguiling grin.

"No, I think not."

"My sympathies. But you never know, maybe a coin toss or two and things will look up. What do you say?"

"I'm afraid I have something to attend to," Seth replied.

Joshua shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Seth heaved a sight. He knew all their secrets but he knew them still so little. How Joshua had ever won Natasha's heart was a mystery to him as were Kyle and Syrene's plans for their future. These were not things he could speak of with them even if he dared to ask; trust was not built in a handful of hours. But one secret remained for him to learn, one his lady had told him to ferret out.

It was Ephraim's own tent that the siblings would, as they often had, retreat to to talk. It was larger than most of the regular fare, for though Ephraim wanted to be a soldier while they were at war, he could not deny himself a king, not now when he had won back his country. A short distance away, Seth waited for the twins to arrive and gave them a few moments to settle in.

Every fibre of his being screamed that what he was about to do was wrong, a violation of every oath he had ever sworn to king and country, but he steeled himself and marched up to the guardsman stationed outside Ephraim's tent. The soldier stood a few paces away from the tent's entrance, just enough distance that he would not overhear what his liege was discussing.

"You're relieved until further notice," Seth told him, careful to keep his voice low.

The man's eyebrows arched, but that was the only sign of his surprise and he saluted and left his place to Seth. He watched him go and, when he was certain he had left, Seth took up position, just close enough to the tent's entrance that he could hear their voices even through the heavy material.

"We can't have things go on like this," Ephraim was saying.

"It's really not bad as you say. He's just busy... with the preparations for tomorrow and..."

"Eirika." They were both silent for a moment. Seth's stomach churned. No one walking by would suspect him, but even though she had given him leave that night, it pained him to eavesdrop on his lord and lady. It went against all his training, all his vows. "He's been avoiding you. Even I can see that. Did something happen?" Surely they weren't speaking about–

"No. No... not really. Seth's just...Well you know how he is. He's just concerned."

"This is serious," Ephraim said firmly. "I need to be able to rely on him, especially tomorrow. But right now, in all honesty, I can't say I do. Not entirely, not like I did."

"Don't say that, Ephraim. Seth would do anything for us, you _know_ that." Her protests, more fervent than he deserved, made his heart ache. He had only wanted to protect them both; he had not meant for her to have to defend him. It should have been the other way around. Was this what Eirika had wanted him to know? That his behaviour, his attempts to keep his distance had not gone unnoticed? He had only wanted to protect her...

"What was that today at the briefing? He lost track of time? When have you ever known Seth to be late?"

"Ephraim..."

"If he's come to the point where he's shirking his duties in order to avoid you... I don't want another Carlyle on my hands."

Seth's heart lurched.

"I– I don't know what you mean," Eirika managed, but even from where he listened he could hear her uncertainty like a ringing bell.

"No?" Ephraim said. "A loyal knight who pines away for his queen. That doesn't sound at all familiar?"

If she made any sound at all, it was too quiet to penetrate the walls of the tent.

"Eirika, I'm not blind," Ephraim said gently.

A moment passed in silence. He could hardly bear to stay there, to stand accused before his liege and his lady. He wanted to throw back those tent flaps and take her in his arms to say to her that it was untrue. She would believe him– she _knew_ him, knew he would never... He squeezed his eyes shut and imagined speaking the words to her as he now wished he'd had the chance that night. If he'd known... _I could never harm you. I could never betray you. I would leave Renais before I let it come to that. Eirika..._

"I'll... talk to him," Eirika said finally. "I know Seth is–"

"Good evening, general!" Seth went rigid as Dozla, accompanied by Garcia, called out in greeting so that everyone within a league could not but hear. Including the prince and princess.

Seth stepped away from the tent's entrance moments before the twins emerged. They would think he had come to speak to them, but even so, how could they not suspect... Making a sudden decision, Seth turned on his heel and strode away. On impulse, he paused a moment to glance over his shoulder– only to lock eyes with Eirika, a stricken air on her features. She knew. He was certain of it.

He kept walking, as quickly as he could without breaking into a run, and didn't turn, even when he thought he heard her voice, calling after him.

Seth was halfway across camp before he stopped to think that he hadn't warned them about the impending attacked. Every day since the third, he had warned them, but she had said to just watch, to let things unfold as they had before... After their night together he had tried several more times to both save her and learn what he needed to. He had tried bringing her with him but each and every time they'd been delayed– by the gwyllgis, by someone recognising the princess and stopping them, by some trick of fate that he could never predict– so that he'd reached the clearing too late. He had tried obtaining a promise from here that she would stay in the healers' tent, but there too someone had summoned her and she'd left, and he could hardly blame her after the scant explanation he had left her with. A princess could not, after all, ignore her duties without good reason. He had tried setting a guard around her and stayed to watch just in case– and luckily, for the gwyllgis had managed to scatter her guards with their fire and, once again, she'd come close to sustaining a serious injury. Fate itself seemed to be working against him. Perhaps Joshua was correct: Lady Luck was simply not with him this day.

"Forgive me, Eirika," he whispered and then strode to the clearing to wait for Garcia and Dozla to come.

When they did, their efforts were as painful to watch as they had ever been. Seth's stomach was in knots as he thought of Eirika, alone, unprotected. He could still change his mind. There was still time and she would never know if he did not keep his promise. He had broken nearly all his vows now; what was one more after that?

But as he remembered the tremor in her voice as she spoke of the Demon King, of her friend whom she would face in battle for the good of her country and the world itself, he could not turn away. He straightened. If she could face such a trial, so, too, could he.

"Here I'll use the staff to heal that in a jiff," Dozla announced– as he always did. Seth's heart was pounding with uncomfortable furor. The sun was low; staying here while his entire being screamed that he had to get back to the other side of camp, back to _her_, was like trying to keep his hand wrapped around a hot poker.

He stood his ground as Garcia's beard was set aflame and then put out. He had never left later than this and it took all his will to stay in place and watch them, knowing that somewhere on the edges of camp a trio of gwyllgis was creeping toward wherever Eirika was.

"I can fix that!" Dozla insisted to a very miffed Garcia.

"Perhaps we should put an end to our training for today?" Garcia said, watching Dozla with a hint of unease as he continued to grip the staff.

"Just wait! Hold still." Instantly, Garcia froze. Dozla waved the staff around and Seth was certain he could detect a faint glow emanating from the twisted wood. And then, right before his eyes, he could see the beard on Garcia's chin begin to regrow, so that he had a several days' worth of hefty growth on his chin.

The sound of yelling set the two would-be mages spinning towards camp. In defiance of all his training, Seth forced himself to remain still and lock his gaze on the staff. Dozla wasted not a moment. Without a second thought, he threw down the staff and, retrieving his axe that had been laid aside during their training, pelted towards the rising sounds of battle, Garcia following only a step behind.

The discarded staff remained on the grass for only an instant. Seth blinked and suddenly there was someone standing in the clearing, bending to retrieve the staff. As the man straightened Seth could see the withered face of the Blood Beryl of Grado, Riev.

"I grow more tired of those fools every day," he muttered as he clasped the staff. For a moment he held it up before him as if admiring the way the twilight gave it a ruddy glow. His fingers traced its irregular bends and twists where the ancient runes Lute had spoken of were carved. "Soon," he whispered to the staff, gently, almost as if addressing a lover. "Soon I'll know all your secrets and I will be your master." He held it out before him, twisted as he himself was, and then as quickly as he appeared, he vanished.

He knew. Riev was aware what was happening– in fact, Seth felt certain that he was the cause of it somehow. That staff in Riev's possession was somehow turning time in on itself– Time... _Eirika!_

Seth's feet pounded the earth. Maybe he was not too late. The battle was still raging; he could hear the sounds of it, a familiar cacophony as the cries of men and of demon spawn mingled in the evening air.

He came to a dead halt between the rows of tents some distance away from the place he had long ago agreed to spar with her at Ephraim's prompting that very first day when everything was new, when he had laid down his life for her. But now...

Ephraim was kneeling on the ground, holding her limp body in his arms, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed, face buried against her still form.

All the world fell away in that instant. The battle that continued to rage a short ways away was as nothing. It would have been terrible to see his king cry, but even that was nothing to Seth in this moment. He had kept his promise. He had allowed himself to fail her utterly. She was... dead. His darling Eirika. He loved her so– he could no longer pretend otherwise– and he had left her to die for him. His body began to tremble and he groped for something to hang on to as his knees turned to water.

Oh gods, what if this was the last time? What if this was what fate had intended all along? If she remained– He could not bear to think on it and before he knew what he was doing, he was stumbling away, away from the sight of Ephraim mourning his sister, away from the battle he had not warned them about. He did not stop until he'd circled around to the far edge of Darkling Woods, close enough to sense the darkness that emanated from the woods like a foul miasma that choked his throat and burned his eyes. He did not remember drawing his sword, but he was holding it in a white-knuckled grip.

Too many hours remained in this day to be borne. Surely, though, it would begin again anew? It had to. Oh gods, please, just once more! And if it did not... he would join her.

Gripping his sword, Seth marched into Darkling Woods alone. The demons were not long in coming to greet him and he, in turn, met them with steel.

This time, death came neither as swiftly nor as painlessly as he might have liked.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"Maybe archery just isn't our thing. We should try something else." Dozla's bass rumble was unmistakable.

Seth very nearly fell to his knees. He had never before in all his life been more grateful, though once he would have thought it quite impossible that he would ever be thankful to hear that well-trodden exchange again.

Eirika...

He set off at a run in the direction from which he knew Tana and Eirika always appeared. Just the sight of her, whole and living, her wind-tousled hair, her sunburnt skin: That was all he wanted in this world.

When he rounded corner of a tent and finally glimpsed Tana and Eirika there ahead of him, Seth skidded to a halt, and he found he could neither move nor speak, so much did his heart overflow with joy. There she was, his beautiful, darling Eirika. She was _alive_. It was only when Tana and Eirika paused, their glances uncertain, that it dawned on him that he was staring.

"Seth?" Eirika said hesitantly as she approached him. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," he said, feeling for the first time in ages that it was true, a smile breaking loose from him as he looked upon her face. "Yes, my lady. I am very well." He could not seem to look away from her even as a blush crept into her cheeks. He just barely restrained the urge to pull her into his arms, and only because he feared it might cause her undue abashment with Tana here– and the rest of camp for that matter.

"Aren't you going to the briefing?" she managed with the poise and dignity expected of a princess– this in spite of the beautifully scarlet tint of her cheeks.

Seth nodded. "Yes, Princess. I had needed to... check on something. But everything's fine now."

"I... see. We– we should be on our way then." Though it would once have distressed him to admit it, he could not but be delighted by how easily he could make her flush. To think that all he had to do was look at her!

"Princess Eirika, Princess Tana," he said gesturing for them to go ahead. He fell into step behind them and tried to rein in his giddy relief.

Syrene had arrived ahead of them this time, but otherwise all was the same in the war pavilion, and, as the familiar discussions proceeded, Seth used the time to consider his situation. His mood fouled as his thoughts turned to what he had seen in the clearing. Riev...

Like fire from a lightning strike, anger surged through Seth's veins. He would put an end to this. All this suffering, all this pain would come to an end. Today. This was the last time.

While the others planned for tomorrow, Seth made his own plans and the moment Ephraim dismissed them, he crossed the pavilion to speak to Lute.

"I have something to ask of you."

She titled her head slightly and peered at him as if he were an interesting new insect specimen she might wish to study. "Oh? My requests are classified into seven categories and

twenty-five items."

"Category three, item five," he replied; he'd been through this before, several times in fact.

She blinked once, her brow crinkling momentarily, surprised perhaps that she'd not had to elaborate, but finally nodded. "You want my counsel on magical matters. Very well. Ask away."

"What is the best way to break an enchantment?"

"To destroy the object that created it– the staff or tome or whatnot," she replied.

"And if that doesn't work?" Seth asked, almost certain that he knew the answer.

"Kill the caster," she replied matter-of-factly.

Seth's heart was pounding. "Thank you, Lute," he said with a slight bow. He would need her services soon, but dared not tell her so yet. Part of the day at least had to proceed as normal so that Riev would not expect him. Surely Riev had realized that he was not alone; at the very least he would have realized it the first time the pale staff never made it to the clearing, if not before. It would be there today... but so would he.

**ooo**

"My Lord Ephraim!" Seth hailed him as the twins emerged from Ephraim's tent. Eirika appeared troubled as she saw him and Ephraim's lips thinned to a line, but this time Seth had kept his distance and they could not know that he was aware that it was he himself who had been the subject of their discussion only moments ago.

"Yes, Seth. What can I do for you?" Ephraim replied, his features grown impassive.

"Riev is planning to attack our camp in a matter of an hour and a half."

"What?" His air was anything but impassive now. "How do know you this?"

"I cannot explain at present, my lord. He's after a staff that's been in Lute's possession since it was taken from Grado. I believe he's had his eye on it for some while. He plans to send a wave of demons to attack the western edge of camp as a distraction while he comes from the east alone to take the staff."

A glance passed between the siblings. On previous occasions Seth had gone to Eirika first. He had asked for her trust and relied on her to convince her brother. Ephraim's brow was creased but Eirika's features were pleading. "My lord," Seth began, his voice taut, "I realize this sounds like nothing more than madness, and that, of late, my behaviour has been... less than entirely courteous." His eyes flitted for a moment towards Eirika before returning to meet Ephraim's gaze. "But on my honour, Lord Ephraim, I swear I speak truth and I can only beg for your trust." He bowed his head, eyes closed for a moment. After all this time, he had almost forgotten the gnawing fear of uncertainty.

It was only when he felt the pressure of a hand gripping his shoulder that he dared look up. "Of course, Seth," Ephraim said with a curt nod. "Now tell me, what do you need?"

**ooo**

As the sun slanted low in the west, its light turned the leaves of the dying trees a coppery colour like the tint of dried blood, thought Seth. A few paces away Saleh and Lute waited, the former with stoic silence, the latter with unabashed curiosity as she peered through the brush into the glade where Dozla and Garcia were wreaking havoc with the twisted staff they had pilfered from the war tent. Neimi had one arrow nocked and another tucked behind her ear, eyes rivetted on the space ahead of her. Syrene's pegasus was as still as sculpted ice, while the breeze teasing loose strands of her long hair was the only sign that its rider was any more than that. Kyle, sword drawn, periodically shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but was otherwise focussed entirely on the scene before them.

Seth spared his unit only a passing glance and the glade even less so. By now he could tell just by listening how much time remained. Ephraim had been generous in his trust and had allowed Seth to choose a group with which to face Riev. The prince had only hesitated when Seth had asked that Eirika accompany him and even then he had quickly relented upon Seth's insistence. Seth could not but be humbled by the faith his liege placed in him even now, when he had erred so grievously, enough that he had given Ephraim cause to doubt him.

Eirika's eyes, too, were fixed on the glade, but she turned to him when he addressed her. "My lady," Seth said in a low tone. "I must speak to you of a matter of great import."

"But, Seth..."

"We've time still."

Her brow was furrowed but she nodded and followed him a few paces away from the others. He wasted no time. "At some point during the battle," he said, "a trio of gwyllgis will appear. They will have your scent and will come after you. Whatever happens, please, stay close to me." His fingers reached out and glanced over her cheek for the barest instant before he remembered himself.

Eirika's eyes widened, but finally she nodded. "I will," she whispered.

"Here I'll use the staff to heal that in a jiff," Dozla announced from the glade.

"It won't be long now," Seth said. Eirika's eyes remained upon him as they returned to join the others. There would be time for explanations later. If this worked there would be time for all things once again.

"I can fix that!" The rumble of Dozla's voice set Seth's heart hammering.

"Perhaps we should put an end to our training for today?" Garcia suggested.

Seth drew his sword. The others steeled themselves. "Keep your eyes on the staff, Neimi," he said.

"Yes, sir!" she replied without batting an eye. She drew her bow.

As one, the others started at the sound of shouting from across camp. Only Seth remained unfazed, staring straight ahead as Dozla and Garcia sprinted back towards camp and the staff was tossed onto the grass.

He didn't see Neimi loose the arrow, only saw the blur of it piercing the air, and then a strangled cry like creaking branches in a storm.

Seth raced into the clearing to face the withered magician, the others close behind. Riev clutched the staff even as an arrow pinned his hand to the ground, blood dribbling from around the shaft where it had pierced the muscle between his thumb and index finger. As he drew a ragged breath and looked up, his lips parted in a smile that reminded Seth of nothing so much as the grisly grin of a skull. "Ah so you finally caught on," Riev croaked, his eyes on Seth. "And here I thought my gwyllgis were the ideal distraction." Riev's smile widened into a veritable smirk and his eyes shifted. Seth spun to see the familiar trio of gwyllgis bursting from the brush, racing towards Eirika.

Even as it ran, the lead gwyllgi drew in a deep breath, a sign Seth had learned to look for and he wasted no time in diving towards Eirika, knocking her aside as the creature showered them with a burst of flame. He rolled to his feet and Eirika, only a moment later. From the corner of his eye he glimpsed one of the gwyllgis stagger as an arrow buried itself to the shaft in its side. Kyle was off to his left facing down the third gwyllgi. He could hear the roar of magic behind him but there was no time to wonder as the lead gwyllgi lunged towards him.

The beast roared as Eirika's blade pierced the left eye of the outer head. She drew it out with a jerk and the outer head lolled along the creature's body, blood oozing from the gaping wound. It staggered and Seth used its distraction to leap towards it, his blade making a wide arc across the base of the creature's necks, cleaving through the tender flesh. It uttered not a sound as it fell to the grass in a heap.

Scanning area before him, Seth was satisfied that the remaining gwyllgis were well in hand. Kyle had injured the one and the other was about to meet its end as Syrene's pegasus dived towards it. The crash of magic sounded once again and Seth spun to see Saleh and Lute launching spells at Riev. The arrow shaft that had pinned him lay broken on the grass and Riev pressed his injured hand against his robes even as his left clutched the blood-spattered staff. By all that was holy! The damnable staff!

The staff seemed able to perform regular magic, much like it had for Dozla when it had set Garcia's beard aflame, for it shot a bolt towards Lute and Saleh, knocking them both off their feet.

He sensed more than saw Eirika's movement and reached out to restrain her even as Kyle came racing forward, blade ready to strike. Riev raised his staff, a sibilant chant wafting from his lips and all at once, the runes on the staff flared to life and a pale, orange light shot from the staff and enveloped Kyle. When it faded, Kyle was frozen in mid-step like a carved figure beyond the skill of the greatest sculptor of their age.

"I've not been idle all this time," Riev croaked, his lips curving in smug satisfaction. An arrow soared towards him but the staff was raised and before the arrow could strike, its flight had slowed to a crawl. Lips curling into a grimace of pleasure, Riev stepped out of the arrow's path as it floated by.

In an eye's blink Riev had raised the staff once more and Seth's gaze followed it as it snapped upwards and the ruddy glow shot towards the diving form of Syrene and her pegasus. His voice caught in his throat before he could shout a warning. By some miracle she managed to swerve in midair and the glow wrapped itself only around the lance in Syrene's had. Seth watched in fascinated horror as, before his eyes, the lance turned to rust and crumbled entirely, as if in the space of a few seconds it had aged a century's time.

Riev had somehow learned to use the staff to manipulate time, much as Lute has suggested, but to greater effect than even she had envisioned...

Seth edged in front of the princess as he kept his eyes on Riev. No one dared move as Riev held the staff, but even in the dimming light he could not disguise the blood that soaked his robes from the puncture wound in his hand. A stalemate. Dammit.

"What did you hope to accomplish?" Seth said.

Riev's lips twisted into a smile. "Time, of course. When I master the staff I'll wield more power than the Demon King himself and this world will be mine. You were a surprise, however." Seth stumbled away, pulling Eirika with him as magic shot out from the staff. He glimpsed a tree to his left wither before his eyes into a lifeless hulk and then crumble to dust. He shuddered to think what might happen if it were to strike one of them.

"This is futile, Riev," Seth said, his voice like chilled iron. "If you strike me down today I'll return the next time and the next. Or I'll break the staff before you can reach it. We can both be trapped in this day this for the rest of time," he snarled.

"Seth, what are you saying?" breathed Eirika, pressed so close behind him that he could feel the heat of her breath on his neck.

A mirthless laugh crackled from Riev's lips. "Poor fool. I could release you from this. Is there nothing you want? Some moment you might wish to live over, perhaps?" Riev's eyes flicked over Seth's shoulder towards Eirika. "I could grant it to you," he said, his gravelly voice barely more than a whisper now.

Eirika's fingertips, brushing over his arm, sent a shiver down his spine and all at once he was overcome with the memory of her touch, of the way her trembling hands had explored his body, of the way his lips had explored hers. His mouth went dry as he thought of her lips, her breasts, of that innocence she had offered up to him freely, as desirous of him as he'd been of her. To live forever in that instant of perfect union...

Seth's palms were slick around his sword hilt and his heartbeat thundered in his ears. He felt bile rise in his throat as shame and disgust washed through him at the awareness of his own lust. He could not damn all the world just to have her once more.

"I will escape time and... gain immortality. And you can have whatever pleasure you wish." Seth's eyes narrowed. Had Riev swayed for a moment? "Do we have a... bargain, general?" Though it was difficult to be certain in the ruddy glow of the remains of daylight, the stain on Riev's robes seemed to have expanded considerably.

Seth let his sword fall to the ground.

"Seth, what are you doing?" Eirika said urgently.

"Trust me, my lady," Seth replied, eyes on Riev.

Riev appeared delighted, his lips contorting into a smile as he held the twisted wooden staff out before him. The dusky light struck his pallid features and the wooden staff, illuminating them both with a crimson glow. Seth lunged.

Before Riev could utter more than a syllable, Seth had wrapped both hands around the staff. He tried to wrench it away, but even wounded Riev clutched at it with a vice-like grip, his face twisted into a mask of rage so that in the ruddy light his features took on the likeness of the demon spawned beasts more than that of a man.

Riev's good hand was still clenched around the staff when Seth snapped it down over his knee. He felt a searing heat and the force of a blow knocking him backwards, flinging him through the air... a sharp pain and then darkness.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

When Seth opened his eyes, it took him a moment, through the dull throbbing in his skull, to realize that he was lying down rather than standing in the middle of camp listening to Dozla and Garcia's plans. For the life of him, he couldn't remember the last time he had actually woken. He found himself staring up at the ceiling of a high tent– certainly not his own. It was nighttime and lantern light cast a glow over the tarp ceiling.

Groaning, Seth eased himself up. His head ached and he gulped in deep lungfuls of air before taking in his surroundings. Men and women, many bandaged and all sleeping soundly, surrounded him. The healers' pavilion... He tried to listen to the sounds of camp to get his bearings, but the night was unusually still and nothing was immediately familiar to him.

In fact, as he tried to remember the regular course of events, he found his memories oddly foggy. Did the wyvern's cry come before or after the sound of the hooting owl? And the guard who always walked by the healers' pavilion late at night, was it the one with the beard or the young woman with the scar on her cheek?

He spun as he heard footfalls– and regretted it when the dull ache crescendoed into a steady throb. Seth groaned and pressed his palms against his temples.

The footsteps approached and when Seth looked up, he saw Ephraim standing over him, a tin cup held out before him. "Drink this," Ephraim said. "It should help with the headache. At least that's what the healers tell me."

Seth downed the bitter draught in one gulp. "Thank you, my lord."

"You took a bad blow to the head, but you should be fine."

"If I might ask, Lord Ephraim... What happened?"

"When you broke Riev's staff you were thrown back against a tree pretty hard. Riev took the fall a bit better and tried to skitter away, but Neimi put an arrow through him and that was that."

Seth's heart leaped. "He's dead?"

"Quite."

He was almost trembling and had to force himself to remain calm. He did not know yet, not for certain. But if it were true... "And everyone else?"

"Everyone's fine. Kyle is back to normal. He says he didn't see or hear a thing after he was 'frozen.' Lute and Saleh were knocked down pretty hard, but it's nothing a good night's rest won't heal. We had some injuries frighting off Riev's forces, but none were fatal."

Seth sagged with relief. It was almost too good to be true... if it were true. He would not believe it until he saw the sunrise. "My lord," he began as something else occurred to him, "why are you..."

"Awake? I couldn't sleep. I tried but I couldn't, not when I know who– or 'what,' I suppose I should say– we'll be facing tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, my lord," Seth replied quietly, bowing his head, thankful as the gesture caused him less discomfort than it would have even a few minutes ago. Lyon, too, had meddled in powers beyond his ken, and, like Riev, his day of reckoning had arrived. "Lord Ephraim?"

"Yes?"

"I had actually meant to ask why you're _here_."

"I came to check on someone." His eyes drifted to Seth's right. Seth followed Ephraim's gaze. With the pounding of his head, he'd not even realized who lay there. Blankets tucked up to her chin, the lines of Eirika's face appeared relaxed as if she were sleeping soundly.

"Is she–"

"She's fine. Don't worry," Ephraim assured him. "She was concerned about you. Even when the healers said you'd be fine she insisted on staying here. And, well... she needs her rest for the coming battle so... I ordered someone to sneak up behind her with a sleep staff."

Seth raised an eyebrow. "She'll be livid, milord."

Smiling, Ephraim shrugged. "Let her be livid, as long as she's rested." Ephraim's features, taut with worry, relaxed as he looked upon his sleeping sister. "I won't trouble you with questions just yet, Seth, but when this is over I'll be eager to learn how in the world you knew about Riev and that staff."

"Yes, my lord. I..." Seth took a deep breath. "Lord Ephraim, I know you've been under a great deal of strain and I regret that I've contributed to that burden. I'm aware that my behaviour of late has–"

"Seth, that's enough. I should know better than to doubt you."

Seth hung his head. "I've given you good reason, milord. I only ask the chance to put things right again."

Ephraim nodded. "I'll be relying on you in today's battle."

Today's battle... "Prince Ephraim?"

"Yes?"

"If I might trouble you, what is the hour?" Seth's heart trembled to know the answer. If began it again he thought he would go mad.

"Just before dawn."

"Truly?"

Ephraim peered at him with a raised eyebrow. "Yes. I'm quite certain."

"Milord, I– Could you excuse me?" he said, stumbling to his feet. The ache in his skull had dulled to almost nothing and the rush of excitement made his knees feel weak. "I think I... need some air."

Ephraim nodded. "Of course. You're certain you're all right? You look a tad pale."

"I'll be fine, milord, thank you." And then, with a hasty bow, he all but ran out of the healers' pavilion.

The west lay in darkness, but as Seth turned away from Darkling Woods, he thought he glimpsed a lighter tint of black, there in the east. He trained his eyes upon the eastern sky until the stars faded and black shifted to a deep, velvety blue. Could it truly be happening, finally, after all this time? He had almost forgotten what time was, how precious the passing of the minutes and hours truly was.

The first hint of colour appearing over the eastern woods set his heart aflutter.

He very nearly dropped to his knees and resisted only because he could not bear to tear his eyes away from the sky as the faint luster of yellow melted into ochre and orange, flame bright and more brilliant than he remembered. Murmuring his thanks to gods, to the Everlasting, to the living, breathing world itself, Seth scrubbed at his eyes and drank in the sweet morning air that made him as giddy as would the finest wine.

And even now as he watched the sun rise, as he'd feared he might never again be able to, he found the memories of the long day fading as might a dream upon waking. He remembered the shape of events their general flow, but the edges grew fuzzy and the colours less vivid, the string of repeated days blurring together.

It was the sound of Eirika's voice that finally prompted him to turn his eyes from the brilliant magenta and orange palette of the sunrise. "Seth?"

"My lady."

"How are you?" The concern on her features as she eyed him could not but endear her all the more to him. He was only a knight, yet she deigned to worry about him, to be concerned for his welfare, more so than for her other retainers. He had realized this some while ago, but it no longer troubled him as it once had.

"I am very well, my lady." He smiled at her then and he thought it was more than the light of dawn that coloured her cheeks.

She smiled in return. "I'm glad." And then, after a moment's pause, "When the staff sent you flying and you just lay there, I was afraid you'd– But you're fine now." She shook her head. "How did you know about Rieve? And... what you said at the end– about being trapped..."

And so he gave her a brief account of the long weeks of repeated evenings and battles and of the gwyllgis and the staff. Even in the ruddy glow of the sunrise Eirika looked pale.

"I'm so sorry, Seth," she said when he came to the end of his tale.

"My lady, you've nothing to be sorry for."

"I caused you a great deal of trouble and you suffered for me once again."

"I could do no less," he said quietly, for he knew he had failed her more than once.

"Are you sure you're well enough to fight today?"

"Yes, Princess."

She nodded and, rubbing at her bare arms in the cool air, she turned and glanced in the direction of Darkling Woods. The western sky was still dark. "I can't believe we'll have to face Lyon," she breathed.

"My lady," Seth said, stepping closer to her and laying a hand on her shoulder, "whatever happens, I will be by your side. Always." She darted a glance at him.

"Seth, after the war..." She trailed off, her lips thinned to a line, her eyes downcast.

"Yes?"

She shook her head. "No it's nothing. We need to focus on the battle, not on... other things."

"Lady Eirika," Seth began, daring to reach out and place his fingers beneath her chin and tilt her face up. "If you've something to say to me I would have you say it." Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him

"Seth... I–" She took a deep breath and began again. "I need to know," she said slowly, "if you can ever see me as more than the princess of Renais. I need to know whether you can think of me the way you did... that night."

The night they'd fled Renais. He knew that was what she meant of course, but all at once his thoughts returned to a night that seemed now as little more than a beautiful dream.

"After the war," Eirika continued, "Ephraim will be crowned king. He'll marry and his heirs will inherit the crown." She paused a moment, not meeting his eyes. "We have strong alliances with our neighbours, ones sealed with our very blood. So there's really no need for me to make a political alliance. I should be able to marry any man I choose." She was still not looking at him. The sunlight was creeping higher into the sky, and as it caressed her features she seemed to Seth's eyes almost to glow. "There will be much to do once we return home. Restoring Renais will take much work."

"Yes, my lady."

"Seth, I..." She glanced up at him then, nervously, he thought. "I want you to be there by my side... as more than my retainer."

His heart surged with pride that she would chose him– _him_!– above any other when she could have had any man. She deserved a lord of royal blood with a kingdom to offer as a bride price; all he had was his service and his affection and those had always been hers.

"Lady Eirika," he said earnestly, "I am only a knight and hardly worthy of your affections." And here he had to take a breath to calm himself before he went on, even as her face fell. "But if you would bend to honour me with your hand, I would not refuse it."

Eirika froze, stared at him, and then, much to his dismay, began to laugh.

"Oh Seth, I'm sorry," she said, still laughing as she reached out and squeezed his arm. Her eyes still glimmered with laughter, but she drew in a deep breath and began to speak. "I'm just so relieved. You looked so serious: I was expecting another speech about your being a knight and I, a noble. So you really–"

"Yes."

"And we–"

Instead of replying, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. His arms wrapped themselves around her, one hand tangling in her wind-blown hair as she relaxed against him. Her lips were as warm and soft as he remembered them.

A grin broke onto his face when they parted and he felt as giddy as a squire trying on his first suit of armour. Her cheeks were pink like the eastern sky and she clung to him as if uncertain of her limbs. "What made you change your mind?" she asked him.

He let his fingers trail over her face. "I had a great deal of time to think," he replied, winking. "But there's something I must tell," he continued more soberly. "While I was trapped in that day I... When I was on the brink of despair..." He cleared his throat. There would be no second chances now; any mistake he made now would be set in stone, but still he plowed on. "One night you came to me and we– I–"

She pressed a finger to his lips, and though her cheeks were flushed she met his eyes and spoke with deliberateness "Whatever happened, I forgive it." She smiled then, but after a moment her glance turned westward. "Today..." He pulled her against him as he felt the tremor that ran through her body. "Seth..."

"I will be by your side, Eirika. Whatever may come to pass, I will be with you, I swear it."

She nestled close against him. "I love you, Seth." Her whisper thrilled him as much as if it were the first time– and truly it seemed liked it was. Had it really all been more than a dream? Could her skin really be as soft as he had thought it, her touch as gentle? His blood raced at the thought that he'd have to wait until their wedding night to know.

"And I love you, my beautiful, darling Eirika." He could not but smile as he said it.

Her eyes were bright as she looked up at him and then shook her head. "We have to get to through today..."

"We will. And then we'll speak to Ephraim and I'll earn his consent to marry you. And we'll return home and be married and..." He broke off, suddenly too giddy to speak any further. Her cheeks were scarlet and she was biting her lip in a delightfully nervous manner so that it was too much to resist and he kissed her once again.

They were both flushed and breathless when they parted. "I wish we could just stay like this," she whispered.

"I don't," he said, cupping her cheek and staring into her eyes. "I want a lifetime with you, not just a moment."

Her smile was as bright as the sunlight that spread over the sky, reaching even to the western horizon. He felt as if his heart might burst with joy as he placed a kiss on the top of her head and held her tightly against him, there, in the middle of camp. And he did not care who saw them like that, whether it be Ephraim emerging from the healers' tent after his sister, or the soldiers on patrol, or their comrades rising early. The sunlight on his face seemed to wash away his shame, replacing it with pride. That she had picked him seemed a miracle as great as the sunrise itself. That they would be together was something far more certain.

**THE END**

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**A/N**: As always, I want to say thank you to everyone who came along for the ride and left reviews. It's always great to know people are actually reading these stories. With the limitations imposed by the idea of a repeating day (a single point of view, setting, series of events), this story was a bit of a challenge to write, especially in terms of the pace, but I think that's one of the really great things about fanfiction: You can experiment, try all sorts of things that you might not be able to in original fiction due to the limitations of your chosen genre. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!


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